"Incoming!" Ramon shouts and both of us huddle by the sandbags. In the distance, I can hear the roar of the gendarme's siege guns. A few seconds later, a cannon ball flies blindly overhead and slams into the wall of a nearby cottage, turning it into rubble. A second cannon ball slams just short of our fire base, punching a crater in the ground with an earsplitting crack. 

"Damn." I mutter, gingerly rubbing my ear, "This is more intense than I expected."

"Its far from over." Ramon remarks grimly, eyeing the corpses of House Guard and Gendarme left along the road, freshly splattered from the volley of siege gun fire. 

"Fire at will!" Al snaps as the Dasar's cannon crews bring our own artillery to bear. Plugging my ears to the ripple of cannon fire, I watch as our own volley is sent into the serried ranks of invaders. The enemy line undulates angrily, absorbing our shots. Casting its shadow over us, the tower of Dasar manor sends up another signal flag, warning us of another approaching incursion by the enemy. 

The Baron had originally wanted to hole up in the tower and trade blows with the invading army, but I had argued strongly against that course of action. Even disregarding the presence of Morton and the infinite numbers of House Guard popping out of the Izzak villa, staying in the tower was close to assisted suicide. It would allow Henrik and his army to freely maneuver around us, eventually cutting us off from the town and subjecting the Dasars to the full force of the siege guns. Dasar wanted to dismiss my analysis immediately, but I had an unexpected ally. 

Al agreed with my assessment of the situation and brought Dasar around. Their relationship may be complicated and I've no idea about all the nuances, but Dasar seems to trust Al implicitly. Even going as far as to agree to launching a pre-emptive assault on Henrik as his invading army was spreading out throughout the town. 

So that's the reason why we're out here instead of cooling our heels in the tower. Al had led a force of Dasar bandits and smashed the vanguard of the enemy army. Henrik wasn't expecting trouble quite so early, so our initial attacks forced them back to the outskirts. The Dasar's own cannon were then brought out to set up this fire base, forcing the line of battle forward, conveniently away from the tower. Now both sides were involved in an artillery duel, leaving the tower unmolested. 

I didn't mind this development at all. It made it convenient to access the source of my worries, the Izzak manor. 

"Our cannons are so small compared to theirs." Ramon says worriedly, "Wouldn't we be flattened if this continues?"

"There's still time for you to go back to the manor." I grunt, wiping the dirt off my face with a sleeve, "I rather you stay there as well. Safer."

"No chance." Ramon scoffs, "You need my help with the villa Mac, and you know it."

"Is that so?" I raise an eyebrow, checking the barrel of my arquebus one more time. Its a massive antique, nearly my height standing upright. The reason why I picked this piece over the more modern weapons in the Dasar arsenal was because of its heavier caliber. A shot from the arquebus would easily puncture several layers of full plate. 

Hopefully even the plate Morton's so fond of. 

My arch nemesis has thankfully not shown up so far, probably hanging around the manor supervising whatever's going on inside. But chances are we're going to throw down again, especially if I'm snooping around the villa. 

What can I say? I like being prepared. 

"I asked around." Ramon continues, his ponytail dirty from all the dust flying about, "No one else noticed what's going on at the villa. Just the two of us. Even when we were looking directly at the villa from the upper floors of the tower."

"Its the Mark." I comment, "That brand on our asses is letting us get the real low down."

"Yeah, I know." Ramon nods, "My rear was hurting the whole time as well. And that's why you need me Mac. No one else will believe you about the villa. I'm the only one who can provide support."

"You're good with your guns, sure," I reluctantly admit, "but if its a problem a magic knight can't handle, I doubt you would be able to make a dent in it."

"You're going to be bringing Loaner along." Ramon points out, "Can that horse do more than I can?"

"Uh, well ..." I trail off, lost for words, "Loaner can run fast?"

"I need to do this, Mac." Ramon insists, his expression solemn, "The Sage said doom was coming for my family. And that doom might just be in that villa. If there's anything I can do to stop it, I have to try."

"Got it. Its not as if I can force you to go back anyway." I sigh, "Let's just try surviving the next few hours first."

I'm really not keen about Ramon tagging along with me for this mission, and its not just because of the implied danger. No, the other reason, as weird as it may sound, is because of a woman. More specifically, Ramon's former fiancé, Amanda. 

I had a bad feeling the moment I saw her in the flesh, and combined with my visions, I really didn't want to poke at that hornet's nest. Even if it was all my own paranoia, I didn't want a point of friction arising between me and Ramon, especially during a perilous time like now.  

Scanning with the Eyes of Ea, I see a force of infantry backed up with Gendarme cavalry, their lances glinting wickedly in the afternoon sun. The troop advances down the street in a hurry, taking advantage of the lull in cannon fire coming from our side. Ramon might have been worried about the size of our guns, but when it comes to artillery, size isn't everything. 

The siege guns brought by Henrik had broad, thick barrels, better to fire heftier payloads. But the width of those barrels worked against the siege guns as well. Cannon balls would rattle down the barrel when they were fired, preventing them from achieving a stable trajectory. This simple fact made the siege guns' accuracy completely atrocious. Henrik's gunners would struggle at hitting the broad side of a barn. Of course if they actually landed a hit, we would be feeling it. 

If we were still alive that is. 

Now, the Dasar's guns might be smaller, but their barrels were also narrower and longer to boot. The shot's probably less than half the caliber used by Henrik, but I reckon our artillery would be able to reliably land hits as long as we had enough powder to keep the guns fed. Its why Henrik can't afford to bombard the tower. Not while this firebase is ready to tear his army a new collective asshole. 

The tower lights up as the snipers open up with their swivel wall muskets, pinning down the advancing infantry. The horseman spur their horses forward, breaking through the withering fire, letting the infantry provide cover as best as they are able. 

"Henrik and Christina isn't here." I murmur in relief, "That's good."

"The old man gave very clear orders." Ramon smirks, "If any enemy mage gets close enough to let off a spell into our line, the snipers are going to waste them, no questions asked."

"Henrik's not stupid." I agree, "He'll probably try to keep rolling us backward and suppress the tower with his siege guns."

"Then seize the glory." Al concludes as she walks up to us, "Once the tower's shell is cracked open, he will level it with a grand casting."

"How dramatic." I remark dourly, "What a hero Henrik would be."

"Let's not give that prat a chance." Ramon grunts, reaching for his gun belt, "Didn't like his attitude the moment I saw him that night."

"Hear hear." I droll, leveling the arquebus at the incoming cavalry, my enhanced strength letting me handle the clumsy weapon easily. Around us, the Dasar bandits ready their own muskets, straining at the leash. I stare down the sights of the weapon, my finger giving the trigger a gentle squeeze. 

There's a click and the weapon's barrel erupts into a cloud of fire and smoke, temporarily blinding me. The bandits, taking their cue from me, begin unloading into the enemy as well. As the smoke clears, I'm gratified by the sight of my target's torso being completely obliterated by the flying lead ball, with the unfortunate horseman's organs sent sailing in the direction he came from. 

"Nice shot." Ramon's praises, his hands moving like lightning, drawing and firing his pistols in rapid succession. With every shot he fires, a horseman is sent tumbling to the ground. It makes me feel distinctly second rate. 

"Reloading!" one of the bandits shouts as our weight of fire slackens. We have blunted the charge of the gendarme, but their numbers are great enough to push through our initial volley. I drop the arquebus and reach for the longsword strapped on my back, a proper sword this time, not one of those faggot dueling swords Ramon is so fond off. 

"Stay here with Ramon." Al pushes me back as she steps forward. Pointing her wand squarely at the incoming cavalry, Al begins to chant. 

"Call darkness, the embrace of the abyss." Al declares, her voice dominating, "Diabolic Beckoning!"

A small blip of darkness emerges out of her wand, hovering in place. The Gendarme keep charging, heedless and caught in their own momentum. But as they surge forward, the mote of darkness churns, unleashing a powerful vortex that unhorses men and drags their mounts across the ground. Screams of men and animals cry out as they are pulled, no, beckoned toward the blip of darkness conjured by Al. 

"What in the world?" Ramon exclaims.

"Demonic magic." I explain, "Spatial control. This is high level stuff. Very elite."

Al might not have the raw power of Christina, but this level of magic is a quantum more complex than Christina's go to starlight spells. And then there's the matter of control. Al is only targeting the Gendarme, despite the spell having the power to rip up the entire neighborhood. Literally a double handed sword wielded with the finesse of a scalpel. The true difference between a talented rookie and a true veteran. 

The mote blossoms into a grotesque flower and begins swallowing up the men and horses caught up in the vortex. Its hunger is insatiable and no matter how the Gendarme struggle, they are consumed in the beckoning maw, never to be seen again. 

"And that's that." Al says, lowering the wand and letting the darkness poof out of existence. 

"Amazing!" Ramon cheers, "You're far more awesome than Mac. He does nothing but hit people with his sword or fists."

"Hey." I grumble without any real heat, noting that the infantry has gotten their fill of being shot at by snipers and are retreating back to their own lines. 

"Thank you, Ramon." Al laughs. She's still wearing that veil, but I can tell that she's embarrassed and even pleased by my friend's praise. 

"Crisis is over." I clap my hands, "Now its back to cannons firing at each other I suppose?"

"Looks like it." Ramon makes an uncomfortable face and settles back by the sandbags. 

"Nair, walk with me." Al unexpectedly calls out and I follow her to the other end of the firebase. She then sits down on a crate of cannon balls with a groan of relief as the men load their cannons for the next exchange. 

"So, what's up?" I ask, leaning against a collapsed wall. 

"You're sallying forth later. Along with Ramon?" Al asks, massaging her legs. Huh, she looks more tired than she should be. Guess that spell really drained her reserves. 

"After dark." I confirm, "Once the sun sets, we should be able to make it to the villa. Like we discussed earlier, just fire one of the cannons that way as a distraction. We'll handle the rest."

"I disapprove of Ramon accompanying you." Al replies flatly. 

"Hey, I disapprove too." I concede easily, "Maybe you could talk to him?"

"Its because of the Sage, isn't it?" Al grits out, "Didn't you listen to anything I said about him?"

"Sure I did." I shrug, "There are just no better options at the moment. Like I said, talk to Ramon. I don't mind."

There's a long silence before Al finally manages to reply. 

"I don't have that right." she sighs, "Ramon is grown up now."

"Good talk." I give a thumbs up. What a waste of time this conversation turned out to be. 

"Whatever you plan to do, just come back quickly Nair." Al interrupts as I begin to walk away. 

"Miss me already?" I chuckle. 

"Its not that." Al scoffs, "I don't think I can hold out against the enemy without your help."

"You handled yourself pretty well just now." I object, folding my arms. 

Al doesn't respond, instead pulling off her glove and showing me her hand. The skin is old, blemished and wrinkled. 

The hand of an old woman. 

"Shit!" I jump back startled. 

"Yes. Shit." Al drolls, "I'm aging again Nair. Ever since we entered the manor. I feel like I've gained more than a decade in the last few hours."

"What caused this?" I quiz, honestly worried now. 

"I don't know." Al replies helplessly, "But I feel heavy. Weak. Pains in places I never had before. Like there's a hole in the middle of my body and all my vitality is flowing out of it."

"This isn't good." I agree, "How much of your strength do you have left?"

"Magic wise?" Al quips, "Almost all of it. Its the sense of exhaustion that's eating at me. I can't focus for long. And if Henrik and his strange girlfriends show up, well ..."

"Your chances aren't good." I nod, "Three on one fight. And the one is an old woman."

"This old woman still has her teeth." Al snorts, "Though I might hurt my hip if the fight goes on for too long."

"Got it." I confirm, "We'll back as soon as possible."

Al merely gives a tired wave of her hand as she begins to rest. I walk off head spinning, thinking back to my own experiences. I am chronologically only a year old. How did I become an adult then? What is the trigger for aging? I must have unknowingly hit it in the past. The same way Al tripped her aging trigger when she entered Southmarsh. 

I aged in Springvale because I was "meant" to grow into an adult there. So if Al is suddenly growing into her real age now, does it mean that she's always meant to be in Southmarsh?

The Sage claimed that the fall of the Dasars is a story told many times. And if Al's aging is something that's "meant" to happen ... 

Then the story is being told right now. 

I'm just following the plot. Without amendment.