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Part 25

Youlan shuddered as she was led down a dark, narrow stone staircase and into the massive wine cellar at the very bottom of the Chariot Manor. The smell of smoke was thick in the air even down in the lower levels, adding a sharp tang to the cold and damp. But it wasn't the chill air that made Youlan shiver, it was a feeling of utter, otherworldly wrongness that filled the space.

The moment Youlan laid eyes on the mana bomb, it sent a chill running up her spine and made her feel as though thousands of insects were crawling just below the surface of her skin. The device seemed so unremarkable, nothing but a hammered iron cylinder with a few glowing lines carved into the metal.

Stealing the weapon had been terrifyingly, almost comically, simple. With a few bribes with money stolen from a trade caravan, a stolen Templar robe, and a simple shapeshifting spell, she had simply walked out of the archives with the weapon in a box labelled 'Junk'. Neither the Archive researchers or guards had made any attempt to stop her, and she had simply walked into the forest. The hardest part had been locating the weapon in the archives themselves, and that was only due to its small size and relative simplicity.

The Grand Templar had created a great many weapons and artifacts during his reign, most of which were still a mystery and subject of study by Templar scholars. Even if her theft had been discovered, chances were that they wouldn't realize precisely what it was she had stolen until it was too late. There was a good chance that even now the Templar were ignorant of the theft.

Of course, wandering around the Empire with a powerful weapon was far from ideal. Youlan's original plan had been to try and destroy the Legacy estate, but the magical defenses she was certain the Grand Templar would have erected made that a difficult target. Next she had considered the Templar academy, but that too would have been difficult, not to mention the fact that killing children in training had given her pause.

It had been in the city of Hollyborne, while making plans to destroy the templar mana tower there, that Youlan had met Davit. She'd hoped that after she'd given the weapon the Shani Chariot, it would be the last time she ever saw it. But now, the cursed thing weapon was once more her problem to deal with.

With each step she took, Youlan could feel the death and decay taking place inside the metal container laid out before her. Though the basitins seemed utterly unaffected, Youlan felt as if she were being repulsed by the foul device. It felt so very different than it had when she had stolen it from a Templar archive.

As each fragment of mana crystal inside the cylinder was ground to dust, it seemed to Youlan that she could hear a shriek of agony, as if the crystals themselves were crying out.

"Can you stop it?" A voice rang out just behind her as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Youlan jumped a little, surprised that she hadn't heard the basitin approaching her. Even compared to the famously soft footed wolves Youlan was used to dealing with on her father's plantation, when it came to moving silently the Basitins were in a league of their own.

"I'll need to get closer," Youlan replied.

The Basitin behind her was a young female, no older than eighteen, with light tan fur and long silver hair. With obvious contempt and anger, she gestured at the device. "Well there it is, get to it Templar."

"I'm not a..." Youlan sighed. "Fine, let's just get this done..."

"There is a battle upstairs." The female continued. "And the fire you set is spreading. You need to work fast."

"Right."

Each step forward took more and more effort as Youlan approached the table. It was like walking into a foul smelling swamp, feeling the muck slowly crawl up her body.

"Can you really not feel anything?" Youlan asked the basitin woman.

"Basitins can't use magic," the female replied, an icy edge to her voice. "I thought you Templar knew that."

Youlan shrugged. "That's not strictly true. Basitins have access to mana the same as everyone else, it's just that it seems to... well... There are... problems with... controlling... it."

Youlan trailed off as she reached the table. As she stared down at the bomb, Youlan felt as if she were trapped within her own skin. She shivered as she broke out into a cold sweat.

"What's wrong?" The female asked, leaning close to Youlan.

"I can't believe you can't feel this," Youlan gasped. "It's... awful."

The female basitin cocked her head, completely uncomprehending of Youlan's discomfort.

Resisting the urge to use her fingernails to try and scratch her own flesh from her bones, Youlan looked over at the female. "I need you to talk."

"Talk?"

"Something, anything. I need the distraction."

The female frowned and crossed her arms, "I don't have much to say to you."

"Just... tell me your name, something about you, anything!"

"None of your business, human."

Youlan found it hard to catch her breath as she felt her frustration festering into 1rage. The bomb was feeding her anger, making it hard for her to focus.

"Just... I just need.... I need"

"We don't have time for pointless talk!" The female gestured at the mana bomb with her spear. "You're here to work human, so work."

"Now look," Youlan snarled, her hair rippling and streamers of mana rising from her body as she rounded on the basitin female. "You don't like me, fine! You want to blame me for what the Chariots have done? FINE! But I didn't build this thing! I didn't attack you! And I sure as hell didn't need to volunteer to help you stop it!"

The female Basitin shrank back as Youlan's voice echoed through the cellar, dark and terrible. The other Hearth warriors drew their weapons, but none dared try and get close to Youlan. They may not have been able to feel the vile energy pouring off of the weapon, but they could certainly hear the darkness echoing in Youlan's voice.

"I am your only hope of stopping this weapon!" Youlan continued, strands of mana running up and down her body. "So if you don't want this bomb to go off and kill you, your friends, and everyone in this city, do as I say!"

As soon as she stopped speaking, the waves of mana vanished and Youlan dropped to her knees, panting for breath. Just as the Basitin started to step forward, Youlan vomited.

"I'm sorry." Youlan gasped, trying hard to keep herself from being sick again. "The mana... coming off this thing... it's hard to control it. It... It's getting inside my head..."

Youlan paused as the female bastin stepped forwards and extended a hand.

"Fern." The basitin said, helping Youlan to her feet. "My name is Fern."

"Fern?"

"Fern, out of Celeste. What's yours?"

"My name is Youlan."

"Don't misunderstand me, I still don't like you." Fern looked from Youlan to the bomb. "But what you said was true. You could have fled... but instead you are trying to help. I... respect that."

Youlan sighed, "Well if that's the best I'm going to get, so be it."

As Youlan turned back to the bomb, Fern hopped up onto a nearby barrel and lay her spear across her lap.

"So? What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know." Youlan replied, rolling up her sleeves and gently poking around the metal casing of the mana bomb. "Tell me about this 'Hearth' you're from. What's it like?"

"Our ways are secret." Fern paused for a moment. "But... since you already know about us... I guess I can tell you a few things."

"Thank you." Youlan took a deep breath as she raised her hands, her finger tips glowing. "Here we go."

===

The walls of the Chariot manor had beheld many a battle in the days since Tahl Chariot had ordered it built. Assassins, rival families, even a rogue governor who had tried to turn Basikal into his own personal fiefdom, had tested themselves against the Chariot family in their own home. The house was no stranger to blood.

But in all of its years, nothing had come close to the battle between the Thirteenth Company, and the Chariot's own troops. The stone floors were slippery with blood, the air filled with the sounds of battle and thick with the smell of smoke and death.

Marien's own blood roared in her ears as she fought, every sense tingling, every instinct screaming. She moved like a fish through water, each movement flowing into the next. Her blade was an extension of her arm, a silver ribbon of flashing death.

She ducked a swing, parried another, and in a spray of crimson, slashed a Chariot soldier's throat. The man hadn't even hit the floor before Marien lunged at another.

"Alaya! Jurman! Go and assist Sergeant Harker!" She bellowed, evading a blow to her midsection before countering with a strike of her own.

Her opponent cried out as Marien's blade sliced into her side through a gap in her armour. The soldier attempted to stagger back, only to have her helmet caved in from behind by a powerful blow from Volfen's heavy warhammer. The soldier fell, the left side of her helmet crushed, and showed no sign of ever getting up again.

No sooner had the soldier fallen, two of her comrades leapt forward to engage, teeth flashing and vengeful cries echoing across teh hall.

"The Ambassadors?" Marien demanded, blocking a sword thrust.

"Safe, for now!" Volfen shouted back. "Lady Silver is there too! Auflen and Detrisch are guarding them!"

Volfen ducked to avoid a wide swing from his opponent's spear. But as Volfen tried to launch an attack of his own, his opponent stepped closer and stomped on his foot. As Volfen yelped in pain, the Chariot soldier cracked him in the nose with the shaft of his spear. Coughing and choking on his own blood, Volfen stumbled back.

Just as he was preparing to thrust his spear into Volfen's neck, Marien leapt onto Volfen's opponent. The man thrashed about wildly, but Marien held on. With a roar she sank her teeth in the man's ear.

As the soldier howled and stumbled back, Marien released him. She gripped her sword with both hands and swung as hard as she could, her sword sweeping through flesh and bone. The soldier's head fell to the ground, followed shortly by the rest of his body.

"Are you alright?" Marien demanded, pulling Volfen back to his feet.

"I'm fine!" Volfen coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood and wiping his broken nose.

Taking a moment to try and take in the situation, Marien's blood ran cold. The Chariot forces had managed to drive a wedge into the Thirteenth, cutting their forces in half. One group was holding fast at the main entrance, desperately holding the main doors shut so as to prevent the Chariot forces from having easy access to the manor and bringing their full force to bear. Several dozen soldiers, armed with swords and shields, were trying their best to protect them, though they were badly outnumbered.

Worse, Marien and Kent were with the second group, trying to prevent the Chariot forces from getting deeper into the manor, while also protecting Sara, the Ambassadors and Lyon. A steady stream of Chariot Soldiers were breaching the manor from both the south and north hallways. Her troops, already tired from their previous battle, were slowly being ground down.

But the tide of the battle was far from the only calamity that threatened Marien and her troops. The fire started by the human mage's spell was growing as it ate deep into the Manor. Marien's eyes stung and her throat burned as the air became hotter and the smoke thickened. It would not be long before the air would be unbreathable.

As Marien panted for breath, one of her sergeants and four other soldiers approached quickly.

"Captain Kolvest!"

"Sergeant Kasch, report!"

The sergeant was visibly singed, sweat pouring off his fur and hair, his eyes red and bloodshot.

Despite his best efforts, the sergeant was unable to keep panic from registering in his voice as he spoke. "Captain, it's no good! The main staircases are totally impassable! The fire is spreading too quickly! We're cut off from the lower levels!"

"What about the secret tunnels?!"

"The tunnels are only helping the fire spread faster!"

"Then we're trapped!" The realization sent a pulse of fear through Marien's body.

"If the Chariots break through the front door, they'll crush us." Marien's mind raced. "And even if they don't, if we lose the front door, we lose our escape route."

"Captain?!"

"Take your men and join the fight!" Marien cried out, turning to engage a trio of chariot soldiers that rushed at her and Volfen. "We have to get to the main entrance and reinforce them!"

As Marien blocked a spear thrust, all of a sudden she felt a burning sensation under her left foot. Forcing her opponent back, Marien looked down quickly and noticed she had trodden on a glowing ember.

At that moment, a large chunk of flaming timber fell from the ceiling, shattering as it crashed to the entrance hall floor. Sparks and flaming coals exploded in all directions. Several soldiers, both Marien's and Chariot, fell back, yelping and shouting as their fur and clothes ignited.

One of the burning Chariot soldiers stumbled close to Marien, crying out in agony as fire raced up his left arm and across his back. Without even thinking, Marien leapt on top of the man, tearing off her cape and using it to smother the fire.

"Hold still!" Marien barked as she struggled against the soldier's desperate thrashing. When the man continued to scream, Marien struck him across the face with the hilt of her sword. With the soldier knocked unconscious, Marien was able to smother the fire quickly, though her cape was left a smouldering ruin.

As Marien tried to climb back to her feet, another Chariot soldier rushed her, slamming into her and knocking her flat on her back.

Marien's eye widened as the soldier raised her spear over her head, aiming the point at Marien's chest. The smoke and sparks around the hall made her attacker seem more like a demon than a Basitin warrior.

"Sieg!"

Before the soldier could strike, a spear shot over Marien and buried itself in the soldier's hand. The soldier cried out, dropping her own spear and staggering back, before a strike from Volfen laid her out for good.

"Notable, Captain!" Kent said, grabbing hold of Marien and pulling her up as Bruik retrieved his spear from the fallen soldier. "Burning is a terrible way to die, even for an enemy."

"Thank you General!"

As another chariot soldier tried to attack her from behind, Marien whirled around, knocking his feet out from under him with a sweep of her own leg. The man hit the ground hard. As he tried to raise his blade, Marien drove the point of her sword into his throat.

Kent also engaged another soldier, blocking a thrust at his chest and groin, before knocking his opponent's blade away and slicing off half of his right ear. His opponent fell back, howling in agony.

Close by, Bruik and Volfen ended up standing back to back as they fought.

A sharp splintering sound rang out as the shaft of Bruik' spear shattered.

"Switch!" Bruik shouted.

With a roar of triumph, the soldier rushed forward, aiming the blade of his own spear at Bruik's throat. Instead of blocking the attack, Bruik ducked.

As Bruik dropped, Volfen spun around, releasing his warhammer and drawing a short sword from his belt.

Deflecting the point of the spear away with his blade, Volfen grabbed hold of the spear shaft with his free hand and pulled hard. The Chariot soldier refused to let go of his weapon and planted his feet to keep from stumbling. In his resistance, the boy failed to realise he was already within Volfen's range. The soldier recognized his mistake an instant before Volfen's sword tore into his neck.

With Volfen's back turned, the soldier he had been fighting charged, raising her sword above her head. But before she could deliver a killing blow to Volfen's exposed back, the point of Bruik's spear erupted from beneath Volfen's cape. The soldier was taken completely by surprise and impaled herself on Bruik's spearpoint.

Both Bruik's and Volfen's opponents crumpled to the ground and were still.

"Not bad for a bodyguard." Volfen nodded at Bruik as he retrieved his warhammer

"And you fight well for a common grunt." Bruik replied, tossing aside his shattered spear and drawing a sword.

Gesturing at a group of nearby soldiers from the Thirteenth, Volfen cried out. "Protect the Captain! Charge!"

Raising his warhammer, he let out a ferocious bellow and charged into the fray, Bruik chasing right behind him.

Volfen's attack granted Marien and Kent a brief reprieve. Together they stepped back from the front line, both gasping for breath.

"Sara?" Kent asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"At the back with the ambassadors." Marien replied, coughing into her sleeve.

"Then perhaps the time has come to consider falling back?"

"The stairways are gone. We're cut off from the lower levels."

Kent's gaze darkened. "Trapped."

"Only one choice!" Marien straightened and raised her sword. "We have to protect the main entrance and hold the line! If we can connect with forces at the door and push the Chariots back, we can try and keep them bottlenecked in the north and south halls!"

Even as she spoke, Marien felt a creeping dread in the pit of her stomach. There were simply too many Chariot soldiers. Her soldiers were fighting bravely, but almost every one of them bore at least one wound, their armour scratched and dented, exhaustion obvious on their faces.

"That should nullify their numbers," Kent agreed. "But what about the fire?"

"We worry about that later. For now, we have to punch through their line and get to the door!"

"I think we can help with that, little soldier" Alwyn's voice rang out from behind Marien.

Marien and Kent turned as Alwyn, Teela and a few dozen Hearth Warriors advanced. To most they would look simply ridiculous, all a mixture of eastern and western armour, some wearing no armour at all. But simply by the way they held their weapons, Marien could sense their fighting spirit.

Despite her obvious pain and exhaustion, determination flashed in Alwyn's remaining eye. "We will help you get through!"

"But you're hurt!"

"I will survive."

"Are you certain?" Marien asked, although she already knew the answer.

Alwyn looked down at her reflection in the metal of her sword. "I spent the first half of my life fighting pointless battle after pointless battle, I killed for nothing, and would have died for nothing."

Alwyn turned to Teela with a tender smile. "But I have been blessed to have spent the second half of my life being gifted, again and again, with things worth fighting for, things worth living for."

"We are ready." Teela added, drawing a sword from a sheath on her back and squeezing Alwyn's hand.

A fresh rush of strength flowed across Marien as she nodded. "Well, like Major Dauntless always said, 'nothing breaks an army quite like a foe who doesn't know when to surrender'."

"Dauntless always liked that one." Kent turned to Marien. "Then I suppose it's win or die."

"No." Marien's eyes narrowed. "Win!"

With a furious roar, Marien raised her sword and charged back into the fray.

"Fair enough!" Kent grinned, before he too raised his sword and rushed forward to engage the enemy.

"Come on!" Alwyn called out, raising her sword. "Today we protect the people and the land that we love! For the Hearth!"

Like a tidal wave, a chorus of yells raced through the thirteenth and the Hearth Warriors as they threw themselves against the Chariot forces with new vigour.

==

Shani crossed her arms and growled as her troops continued to try and batter down the main doors, while others continued to enter the Manor through broken windows. Around her, the storm continued to rage, the rain pouring down in thick grey sheets and the wind shrieking through the trees. Despite the wind and the rain, the Manor continued to burn, thick plumes of smoke and sparks swept up by the wind and mixing with the typhoon.

The cold and the wet Shani could ignore, thanks to Jabarian's training, but with each passing minute, the pain in her side was returning. Each heartbeat created a pulse of burning pain as the poppy nectar slowly wore off.

Shani gritted her teeth, her fists clenching in rage. She cursed herself for not having brought any nectar with her. She cursed Moore for being so stupid as to allow the Tahl's Victory to be destroyed. She cursed her soldiers for being unable to break through a simple door. She cursed Conrad for being so slow to arrive with her reinforcements. But of all her curses, she reserved the blackest and most vile of them for her idiot brother, the one who had ruined all of her plans and killed her.

"Why is it taking so long to crush them?" She demanded, rounding on one of the officers standing behind her. "It's just one company! We outnumber them three to one!"

"Their resistance is stronger than expected." the officer admitted. "Until we can get the main doors open, we can't deploy the full strength of our numbers.

"So get a battering ram!"

"We're trying my lady, but the roads are all but impassable! I've sent men out to cut down a tree to make a ram, but that will take time!"

"Perhaps it would be better to simply prevent them from escaping." Jabarian mused. "Let the manor become their funeral pyre."

"No." Shani snarled, clenching her hands so hard that her claws drew blood from her palms. "I'm not leaving anything to chance anymore. And if my soldiers can't kill them..."

Shani reached down to her belt and drew Tahl's sword.

"If my soldiers can't kill them, I'll kill them myself. I'll take the south side. Jabarian, you take the north side."

Jabarian's cheek twitched slightly. He could see in Shani's eyes the very same glint that had greeted him in the mirror every day for the last thirty years. This battle was no longer about winning or losing, it was about hurting her target any way she could.

He considered protesting, but the dull ache of the lump nestled in his chest made such an action feel futile and pointless. He knew what it meant, that his life was going to come to an end sooner rather than later. His course was set, just as Shani's was, so why bother resisting it.

After a moment he bowed his head and smiled. "Very well, Lady Chariot. I shall follow you."

"Naomi!"

Shani looked over her shoulder. Sieg stood a few paces behind her, a pair of soldiers holding his arms.

"Naomi, you can still stop this!" Sieg yelled. "I don't care if you are Shani Chariot or Naomi, I talked to you, I SAW you! This isn't what you are!"

"You saw what I wanted you to see." Shani shot back. "I am Shani Chariot, and I have made my choice!

"You don't want to do this! I know that!" Sieg fought against the soldiers holding him, but they were too strong. "It wasn't just acting! On the dock, you were honest with me! I know you were! You want this to end, so please, stop this!"

"You know nothing." Shani turned back to the burning battle. "Just like the rest of them."

"Noami!"

"Shut him up!" Shani barked.

One of the soldiers holding Sieg shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth and tied it around the back of his head. Sieg still tried to call out, but his voice was muffled.

"Stupid." Shani growled. "They're all so stupid!"

"Ma'am?" the Commander asked, Shani's words muffled by the wind.

"Commander, order all of our troops to engage!" Shani ordered, turning back to the officer. "Reserves, guards, everything."

"All of them?"

"Yes." Shani's eyes narrowed, "Yourself included, commander."

The commander paused, his gaze flicking to the fire and back to Shani. "B-but my lady, isn't it wise to leave some men in reserve in case-"

There was a sudden flash of silver and the commander managed to take half a step before he crumpled to the ground with a strangled gurgle, the rain swiftly washing away the pool of blood that formed around neck.

"Anyone else have a thought to share?" Shani demanded, wiping her sword off on her cloak.

"What about the Kolvest boy?" Jabarian asked. "We should deal with him now."

"No."

"This is no time to be sentimental!"

"I'm not." Shani looked back at Sieg. "He's going to stay here and watch as our forces carve his little western wife and her troops into fish food. And when it's over, I'm going to bring him his precious 'Marien's' head."

Shani looked to Jabarian. "After that, if his father doesn't do exactly as I will order, I will skin his son in front of him, piece by piece."

"As you wish, my lady."

"Now." Shani began walking towards the manor. "Let's end this."

===

Lyon fought for each breath as he stared up at his ceiling. He could hear the sounds of fighting, the shouts and calls of people dying on the levels above him. Every once in a while he heard a voice he swore he recognized, perhaps a soldier he had trained with, or a guard he had spoken with on some occasion or another.

Never before had Lyon felt so utterly helpless. His body was failing him, his senses growing dull, and each breath was a painful labour. The colours of his room had lost much of their vibrancy, he no longer felt the soft texture of the quilt upon which he lay.

Lyon was dying, and he knew it. The realization didn't frighten him as much as he thought it would, it felt more like an inevitable conclusion. It was as if he were standing on the deck of a ship and watching as a deadly typhoon approached. All he could think about was how he would gladly trade his honour, his legacy, everything the Chariot family possessed, to have just one painless breath

But, even as the walls of the inevitable closed around him, there was one final option.

"My apologies Lord Chariot." Davit said as he reentered Lyon's room. "The main staircases are completely cut off. The only way to exit the manor will be through the rear tunnels."

"I'm not... going."

"I will carry you my lord, it will not be a problem."

"No..."

"There is still time, my lord. You must try and hold on."

Lyon coughed weakly. "Davit... I'm a Basitin warrior, I know... when death... is hovering over me."

"I will not accept that!" Davit snapped, his usual composure cracking. As he approached Lyon's bed he paused. In Lyon's hand was a vial of poppy nectar and a syringe.

"Poppy Nectar?"

"You have always been... a trusted member... of my house." Lyon blinked heavily. "But... as I released you... from my family's service... I can only ask you this... as a friend."

"But.. why?"

"I'm going... to join the battle."

Davit's eyes widened. "My lord, you cannot!"

"I'm not.... your lord anymore." Lyon met Davit's gaze. "I am asking you... one warrior to another... grant me this."

"In your condition, you will die!"

"Nothing... can stop that now..."

"With proper care, you may yet live! I will take you to the healing guild. The Chariot family may yet survive!"

Lyon shook his head. "You know... that's not true... Whether I live or die... the Chariot Family... ends tonight."

"Lord Chariot..."

"I can't... do this myself..." Lyon struggled to raise his arm, holding out the vial of nectar to Davit. "Please... please Davit... I beg of you... I... Beg... you."

Davit felt his heart breaking. His master's pride, his poise, his noble bearing, all had been stolen from him. Much of the spirit of the man he had come to respect and even love was still there, but his body was a failing shell. Vengeance was all he had left.

Hesitantly, Davit stepped forward and took the vial and the syringe. Carefully he drew the nectar from the vial into the syringe.

"Are you certain?" he asked, placing a hand on Lyon's shoulder.

"I just have... one last thing... to do... My sister has... to be stopped... "

"I... I understand, My Lord."

"I'm going... to go see my Amber." Lyon's breath shuddered as the effort of talking almost became too much. "Please... please help me."

Tears ran down Davit's cheeks as he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "As you command, my lord."

The prick of the needle felt to Lyon more like a lance piercing his chest. It took every bit of willpower he had not to scream as his raw nerves screamed at him. But as the nectar flooded his body, the pain quickly subsided.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Lyon was able to take a deep breath.

With effort, and help from Davit, Lyon was able to sit up.

"Thank you, my friend." Lyon smiled, placing his hand on Davit's shoulder. "I can breathe again."

Hurriedly, Davit helped Lyon wrap a bandage around his chest. With each passing moment, Lyon felt some of his old strength returning. He stumbled for a moment as he stepped away from his bed, but with effort he was able to stay on his feet.

Turning to thank Davit, Lyon was surprised to see him standing just behind him, holding his armour and his sword.

Without a word, Davit helped Lyon pull on his armour and sword. The armour no longer fit Lyon as well as it had, and he needed to cut a new hole in his belt in order to lock it. But wearing his armour and gripping the handle of his sword, Lyon felt a flicker of his old power.

Finally, Lyon turned to face Davit. Davit's head was bowed, unable to meet Lyon's gaze as tears continued to run down his face.

Without a word, Lyon stepped forward and pulled Davit into an embrace.

Davit wanted to speak, but no words came. He simply returned Lyon's embrace.

When the two men separated, Davit took one of Lyon's hands and placed the syringe of poppy nectar in Lyon's palm.

"You may need this. Be careful not to take too much."

"I will be cautious." Lyon placed his hands on Davit's shoulders. "May I give you one final command?"

"Yes my lord, of course."

"Go to your human. She is your responsibility now, and she will need you." A gentle smile crossed Lyon's face. "Give to her the loyalty and love you have blessed my family with for so many years."

"I- Yes my lord." Davit managed.

Lyon nodded. "Now, go."

With a final bow, Davit turned and left, leaving Lyon alone.

With a deep breath, Lyon touched the hole torn in his breast plate.

"It's time." Lyon's hand slowly clenched into a fist. "Amber... Please wait for me, for just a short time more."

As he turned to leave, Lyon caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He could still see the dark circles around his eyes, his cheeks still gaunt and hollow. His luxurious and carefully maintained fur was dishevled and patchy. But, despite his appearance, there remained at least an echo of the Basitin warrior he was born to be.

Throwing his cape out behind him, Lyon strode out of his chambers.

"It's time this ended." Lyon's eyes narrowed as he made his way towards the main staircase. "And I'll be damned if anyone but a Chariot sees it done!"

End of Part 25