Chapter 38:
A Gathering of Allies
(Narrative Setup POV)
Amberhold had been subjugated and the Royal Magic Academy destroyed. The coalition army of the Second Imperial Princess, Gwenevere Vossen-Stone, had taken the first move in a war that would span the entire Empire. The Noble Faction would call it the "Prince's Treason", but everyone else would know it as the "War of the Sun". Many would also whisper amongst themselves that it was liberation.
Too long had the people been bled dry by the greed of the Noble Faction. The resentment that had been building, with nowhere to go, finally had an outlet. In the coming days of Amberhold's fall, word had spread despite the attempts to control the flow of information. Something so important could not be kept under wraps for long, and so, like a whisper upon the wind that quickly turned into a howl, the winds of war had begun in full.
As Gwenevere swept from Verulia into the Northwestern hemisphere of the Empire, the far North had seen a sudden change as well. The Forests of Evernox came to life as the Elves declared war, not upon the Empire, but the Noble Faction within. This, of course, was still seen as an attack against the Empire, for the vanity of the Noble Faction knew no bounds. They believed themselves to be the Empire. The people, of course, disagreed.
Led by none other than their Queen, Lucine El'Vaari, who not so long ago, had been the Empress of the Vossen Empire. Resplendent in mithril chain and ready for war, the Elves descended upon the Northern border towns with a vengeance. They had been subjected to the unfair treatment that many knew the Noble Faction were capable of, but this vengeance was not without focus.
The Elves held a kinship with many in the border towns. The humans were not their enemy. It was the society in which they had found themselves that was, and it would be toppled and built upon anew. With Queen Lucine directing their forces, they struck hard and they struck fast. With her knowledge, the fight for the North was over in a few days. The Songbird was no longer caged.
The people of the border towns rallied under the Evernox banner, marching south to meet with the Army of the Phoenix, as the coalition led by Gwenevere came to be known. They convened within the Venala Desert as Gwenevere worked to liberate the work camps of the Oases.
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(Gwen's POV)
"Mother!" Gwen was surprised to see the Elves marching in the blazing sun of the desert, and even more surprised to see them led by none other than her mother, "What are you doing here?"
"Can't a mother visit their child?" she replied coyly, resplendent in a dress of light-blue fabric with billowy sleeves, perfect for the heat of the desert, "I came all this way with a gift that has long since been overdue. Don't tell me you're not happy?"
Gwen glanced at the massive army trailing behind her mother, smiling with a heavy sigh.
"Of course, I'm happy," Gwen answered, shaking her head in amusement, "I just...what the hell is all of this?"
Her mother smiled widely, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Your information network needs work, Little Flame," she teased, "I was sure that news would have reached you by now, but...you've been busy."
Her mother's gaze looked past her to the myriad of tents and command posts dotting the sands of the desert. The Fengard, City-States, and her own Knights were mingling together as they prepared to march on another of the Venala Desert work camps. Their numbers had increased as the people rose up to join in the fight.
"We have, yes," Gwen nodded, noticing that among the Elves, there were a few humans as well, "I haven't been the only one, it seems."
Looking back at those rallied behind her, Gwen's mother smiled.
"Tell me, what's happened?" Gwen inquired.
"It'd be easier to show you," she replied, flourishing her hand and producing a ghostly blue flame within it, "My magic has returned in full, and I've realized the naivety in which I held my neutrality. The Elves of Evernox stand with you, my Little Flame...though, you've grown into something more than that."
Understanding dawned on Gwen in that moment as she had known about her mother's plight for a few years now. A part of her felt sorrow at the loss that her mother had endured, but also happiness that she was finally free.
"Do not mourn your father and I," she told Gwen tenderly, "It was a long time coming. That man...he's stubborn. Too stubborn. Even now, he's probably thinking that what he's doing is for the best."
Gwen's expression darkened, thinking of the Emperor. Even though her mother still called him Gwen's father, he was nowhere close to being one. Still, she couldn't deny that she held his blood in her veins. A truth that often soured her mood.
"You're probably right," Gwen took a deep breath and composed herself, "Come, let us discuss these things in more comfort. Have your people set up camp."
Her mother nodded, dismissing the flame in her hand and signaling to her people. They immediately began to break ranks and set up camp. Her mother turned towards her, a little curious.
"By the way, I was wondering..." she looked around inquisitively, "Where is that son-in-law of mine? He's usually by your side."
"Mother!" Gwen growled, glaring at her with embarrassment, "That's highly inappropriate. I won't take advantage of Vincent and jump into things. Don't just assume."
"Assume?" she raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk upon her lips, "You assume I mean Vincent, but...I never mentioned him."
"You didn't need to," Gwen grumbled, rolling her eyes, "They're the only man by my side."
"Hmm, I suppose that's true," she replied nonchalantly, acting all innocent, "I apologize. Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. I've just never seen you so...radiant before."
Gwen blushed deeply, unable to deny that she has felt more alive in the last few months that Vincent has been with her than she has in the last twelve years after he had disappeared. Still, whatever relationship she and Vincent had needed to be navigated with a delicate touch. If Gwen was honest with herself, she would admit that she was just afraid. Afraid that the feelings she held for him were not genuine, and were only based on a sense of guilt.
Of course, this was far from the truth. With everything he's been through, she just didn't want him to think that she was trying to manipulate him. He didn't understand what it meant to be in love, and to be honest...neither did Gwen, but she at least had a better grasp of it than he did.
"I'll admit I care for him," Gwen told her quietly, though gave her a look of warning, "However, it'd be good if you controlled yourself. What he's been through..."
She raised a gentle hand towards Gwen.
"I understand," she said softly, "However, I can think of no one else who is better for that boy than you, my dear daughter, who cares for him enough to think of such things. Now, tell me...where is he? Despite what you may say, it's true that I've missed him as if he was one of my own."
"...Mother," Gwen smiled tenderly, letting out a small sigh, "Just, go easy on it, will you? We're still figuring things out, but this war comes first."
They exchanged a look of understanding before Gwen motioned for her to follow.
"Come on," Gwen said, feeling a bit of pride in her heart, "You'll hardly recognize him. He's come a long way. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."
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(Vincent's POV)
In the days since the Academy's destruction, Vincent had spent much of it on the road like the rest of the army. He stayed by Gwen's side for most of it, but with everything that has happened, and his own feelings welling up inside of him, he decided he needed a distraction. Whatever was happening with him, he didn't quite have a grasp on it yet.
He liked Gwen. A lot. So much so that whenever he was around her, he couldn't think straight. He often found himself distracted, being caught staring at times. It was embarrassing.
"...Are these feelings even genuine?" He would think to himself, worried that they had only grown because of his gratefulness towards her. She had saved him in more ways than one. Given him the ability to be his own person. Something he had lost many years ago.
Was it right of him to feel this way towards her? What if she didn't feel the same way? What if his feelings were just an exaggerated form of appreciation? The thought mortified him, and he couldn't sort through it properly. There was so much going on with the war that he didn't want to complicate anything.
That's why he found a distraction in helping the Mage-Corp with Miranda. They had heard about his skill and many began to admire him. It was a new sensation to be looked up to by others. Their starry eyes were locked on him in admiration as he explained how to create several mana circles at once.
Mana circles were what Mages used to channel their mana into certain effects. It was a basic skill, but being able to use several at once took practice.
Most of them could only do two, which Vincent found out was actually pretty normal, and the requirement to graduate the Academy. So, most Mages out in the world could do so. Three to four mana circles at once was impressive, and anything above that was beyond the norm for Mages.
Miranda could do seven comfortably, and ten with a bit of strain. This did not equate to an individual Mages strength. Many of them were quite proficient with using just two mana circles at the same time. Quickly and accurately creating two back to back. This was called Quick-Casting.
Vincent himself could, with little effort, create ten mana circles at the same time. Beyond that, he began to strain around twenty. When Miranda learned about this, she almost fainted. Apparently, that was extremely unheard of, but to Vincent...that was the least he was told he should be able to do. He was learning more and more about just how abnormal the standards he was held to were.
Franchesca had been a Mage who was only capable of creating five circles at once, but her casting was so precise and effective that Vincent never questioned it. So quick was her casting that it often looked as if she could cast more than Vincent, but now he knew that wasn't true. Just how many lies had he been told?
That said nothing about creating wards. Back at the palace, he could only create up to thirteen with some effort. Each ward multiplied the one before. Taking more mana, time, and precision. Now, Vincent could probably do fifteen, as he has grown much in the past few months.
"You have a knack for teaching," Miranda praised, snapping him out of his thoughts, "They've gotten much better under your tutelage."
Vincent blushed slightly in embarrassment, turning his attention to the Mages arrayed before them. They were currently practicing what Vincent had shown them and were progressing quite well. Quick-casting and multi-casting were two sides of the same coin. Those who were able to quick-cast two mana circles back to back had caught on the quickest.
The idea of multi-casting is that you're able to create mana circles at the same time. This is partially true. For each finger you have, you should be able to trace a mana circle and cast the simplest of spells. An elemental bolt. Of course, this takes precision and concentration.
The idea of quick-casting is that you immediately trace another set of mana circles right after the first set has been cast. This leads to rapidly casting magic for as long as your mana holds out. However, if you're quick enough, you can create another set of circles before the first has even been cast. This allows you to create twice the amount of circles with half the effort that forcing yourself to create them at the same time would have.
This was the trick that Vincent had learned. Quick-casting was just a sub form of multi-casting. Eventually, after you have practiced this form of multi-casting enough, you'll be able to naturally and effortlessly create multiple mana circles at the same time. Of course, you still needed the mana to fuel these circles.
Using too many at once could put a strain on any Mage, causing the mana to waver and strength to diminish in the most recently created circles. Concentrating on more than a few circles at once was not an easy task, but for those who had been practicing diligently had doubled their effective multi-casting.
"I don't know..." Vincent sighed, a little sheepish in his response, "It's pretty simple once you get the hang of it. You could have taught them this as well, Miranda."
"Maybe, but even I learned a few things from you," Miranda told him with a teasing smirk, "Don't sell yourself short. The things you're able to do...I don't think a Mage like you has existed in a long time."
Vincent's embarrassment deepened at the continued praise. He didn't think he was anything that great, but the more he learned, the more he realized just how strong he really was. Everything he had been put through...maybe it had been worth it? With his strength, he might just be able to proudly stay by Gwen's side.
"Damn it...there I go again," Vincent lamented, his thoughts flooded with Gwen.
Eager to distract himself, he excused himself from Miranda to walk among the Mages and give them a few pointers. A few were struggle, but after a couple of corrections and words of encouragement, their mana became steady once more. The progress they were all making was incredible.
As he walked among them, his thought turned from Gwen to his own life. What it would have been like had he been taught normally. The way he taught them was far different from how he had been taught. Of course, he never wanted to teach anyone like he had been.
Lost in thought and quite content with teaching the others, he did not notice when two individuals approached. They waited off to the side, watching and waiting. It wasn't until he glanced up that he saw them. His eyes went wide, recognizing the two immediately.
Gwen and her mother, Empress Lucine. His heart seized in his chest as panic arose within him. Scrambling over, he quickly bowed, hand over heart before the two of them, though it was mostly aimed at the Empress.
"Y-Your Majesty, forgive me, I-" Vincent began, but felt a gentle, yet firm hand upon his shoulder.
"Relax, Vincent," the Empress spoke kindly, "Raise your head. You do not need to bow to me. Besides, I'm no longer Empress."
Looking up with great confusion, Vincent glanced at Gwen for confirmation. She nodded, motioning for him to stand straight.
"Very well..." Vincent said cautiously, looking between the two of them, "Still, you are Gwen's mother, so I should at least show some respect."
"Gwen?" she raised an eyebrow, barely contained amusement upon her face, "My, my...you have made progress. My Little Flame was right. Using her name and everything."
Gwen placed her hand to her face, shaking her head as Vincent grew quite bashful.
"I...yes," Vincent answered a little awkwardly, "If that is improper, I can-"
"Nonsense, my boy," Gwen's mother dismissed with a light chuckle, "You, of all people, are more than allowed to say her name. I'm just happy to hear it. Just like she told me. You've made a lot of progress since last I saw you...it brings joy to my heart."
Vincent felt like his face would combust from how warm it felt. He was incredibly happy to hear that she was glad to see him, and in truth...he was happy to see her. He had made a complete fool of himself the last time he saw her, and she was right...he was very different now.
"If you're free, I'd love to get caught up," Gwen's mother said, motioning for him to join the two of them, "Gwen said you've been working hard training the Mages."
Her keen eyes passed over the group of Mages who were still practicing. There was a certain glimmer to them as if she sensed something beyond what most people could feel. A smirk soon crossed her lips.
"They're quite capable," she commented, approval in her tone, "Practicing quick-casting to improve their multi-casting...impressive."
"I mean, it's nothing too great," Vincent answered, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, "They just needed a little push."
"Nothing too great?" Gwen's mother practically scoffed, "Vincent, practicing quick-casting has been the oldest and most effective method of learning to multi-cast. It was invented by the Elves, you know."
Vincent tilted his head, quite surprised to hear this, for he had been told differently.
"It...was?" Vincent asked, furrowing his brow with a sigh, "I should have known Franchesca lied to me..."
"Let me guess," Gwen's mother intoned with some levity, "She told you that her family invented it. The Albinne Family has always been prideful."
"Heh, something like that, yes," Vincent nodded, shaking his head, "Told me that I should be grateful she even taught me."
His gaze grew distant, remembering her death. He had used everything they had taught him to take her down. In the moment of betrayal, she had been open to attack. He rushed, piercing her chest with a blade of ice. It didn't immediately kill her, but it had done its job.
"...Vincent," Gwen's warm voice called in concern, "Still with us?"
He felt a kind hand on his shoulder, snapping him back to reality. He saw Gwen's face, furrowed in concern. He gave her a reassuring smile and nod.
"Yeah, I was just thinking about her," Vincent admitted, a little melancholic, "Have we heard news from the Albinne Family? Their daughter is dead. I'm sure they won't sit quietly."
"None so far," Gwen told him, "Though, since they are allied with the Noble Faction, we can be sure they'll come for us in the future."
"Let them," Vincent's voice grew grim, "If they are anything like their daughter...then they will meet the same end."
There was a solemn silence that fell upon them before Gwen's mother took a deep breath, letting out a sigh that removed all the tension from the air.
"Well, we can discuss that later, for now..." Gwen's mother suddenly wrapped her arms around one of his, catching him off-guard, "I'd like to steal your attention for a bit. If my daughter doesn't mind."
She winked at Gwen, who grew a little flustered.
"Mother!" Gwen exclaimed, grabbing Vincent's other arm as she attempted to pry him loose, "Let go of him. I thought I told you to behave."
Vincent felt like he was suddenly stuck between two of the most dangerous creatures in the world. One, a tranquil, yet deadly tigress, and the other a protective, powerful bird of prey. Looking for any kind of help, his gaze met Miranda's who had taken over where he had left off with the Mages. There was a sudden feeling of betrayal when she pretended not to notice his struggle.
Even she didn't want to get between these two women, and Vincent honestly couldn't blame her. Before he could do anything else, he was pulled free from Gwen's mother's embrace and pulled into Gwen's. She held him firmly, glaring at her mother.
"He's mine, Mother," she spouted suddenly, "He's been through a lot, so be gentle."
"Gentle? Is that why you're crushing him?" she teased, motioning towards him, "Look at the poor boy. He's red as a beet."
The reason Vincent was red wasn't because of being crushed. No, Gwen was being extremely gentle with him. Her embrace was comforting and as always, most welcome. No, the reason why he was so red was because of what she had said.
"He's mine." Those words echoed around in his head, causing his mind to go completely blank. Being hers wouldn't be so bad.
"Vincent?" Gwen's worried words reached his ears, yet just barely as she began to shake him gently, "Vincent, are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"N-No, I mean...yeah, I'm good," he cleared his throat, attempting to compose himself, "You weren't crushing me. I'm fine."
"So...you were lying, then, Mother," Gwen glowered at her mother who simply acted all innocent, "I thought I was harming him!"
"I'm fine..." Vincent assured her, touched by her worry for him, "Truly. Please, don't fight."
"We're not fighting," Gwen huffed, taking a deep, calming breath, "She's just being difficult."
Glancing over at Miranda who was hiding a snicker, Vincent felt bad for leaving her alone. However, seeing that he was about to be pulled away, she gave him an apologetically kind smile, motioning that it was okay. Feeling a little relieved, he turned back towards Gwen and her mother.
"It seems Miranda has it from here," Vincent told the two of them who were sharing quite the intense staring contest, "So...perhaps we should find a place to rest and talk?"
"That would be lovely, Vincent," Gwen's mother stated, once more wrapping her arms around his and began to pull him along, "Will you do me the honor of escorting me?"
"O-Of course," Vincent replied, a little flustered, "If it's okay with Gwen."
Glancing at her, Gwen looked defeated.
"If you're comfortable with it, Vincent," Gwen told him, "Please, indulge her so she can get it out of her system."
Vincent nodded, though the area around them all seemed to suddenly darken as Gwen gave her mother a hard look.
"Don't overdo it," Gwen said almost threateningly, which to Vincent's surprise, seemed to make her mother a little nervous.
"You worry too much," she said dismissively, quickly composing herself.
"Mhm," Gwen narrowed her eyes, yet didn't say another word as the three of them made their way to Gwen's tent to speak.
It seemed like the bird of prey had won this battle of giants.
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(Overview POV)
The meeting of three minds. Vincent Redwood, Gwenevere Vossen-Stone, and Lucine El'Vaari. While it was used to catch up on recent events in each other's lives, it was also used to plan their strategy for the ongoing war. There was no hiding it anymore.
The entire Northern territory from East to West was almost completely within Gwenevere's grasp. They simply had to take the rest of the Venala Desert. It was not an easy task, for the heat of the desert and its terrain had made things difficult. The Mage-Corp had alleviated much of these difficulties, but it was slow going.
With the Elves now joining their ranks, the addition of their Mages added to the capabilities they already possessed. Water and Ice Magic was a blessing. A lot of the strain which had been placed upon Vincent was now lessened, much to Gwenevere's gratefulness. This allowed the two armies to bond rather quickly, melding into one.
Oasis after Oasis was liberated and the people freed from their work camps. A relief for many who now rose up and joined the ranks of Gwenevere's Army, now fully known as the Army of the Phoenix as the name rippled across the Empire. The Noble Faction was now in full alert, well aware of the uprising, but as much as they understood the threat, their attention was turned elsewhere.
Hearing of his sister's disappearance, the First Imperial Prince, Noah Vossen-Stone, was lost without her. He entered a severe depression, followed by fits of rage. No matter the consoling by his mother, the Queen-Consort Yasmina, he could not be reasoned with. One night, he absconded from the palace, along with all of his personal knights, the Order of the First Flame.
It was an arrogant name, for he was the first son of the Emperor, Albert Vossen-Stone, and thus the "First Flame". Despite their grandiose name, they were a corrupt and vile order of Knights who were simply thugs in shiny armor. Noah used them to spread fear amongst the people and control his territory of Shroudmore in the West.
Thinking he fled to his territory, the Noble Faction sent agents to find him, but found that Shroudmore was completely abandoned and its people on the brink of starvation. Angered by this, and in a fit of irrational thought, Queen-Consort Yasmina ordered everyone within Shroudmore to be executed. The ground was soaked in blood that day.
Fearing the loss of support from Yasmina, the Noble Faction was hard pressed to find the First Prince. However, with the pressures of High Society on both of the Queen-Consort's, the Noble Faction was having difficulties navigating the storm brewing around them. Queen-Consort Cordelia had burned many bridges within the Lady's Court, and thus severed many ties that the Noble Faction had.
Queen-Consort Yasmina was hardly any better, being completely obsessed with her son to the point that she wasn't even eating out of worry for him. Despite him being 25 years old, she still treated her son like a child. Her obsession led to her mind completely breaking as she theorized many conspiracies. At one point, she even accused the Noble Faction of taking him to manipulate her, but thankfully for the Noble Faction, they had quelled such nonsense.
If they were not so reliant upon the two Queen-Consort's families, they would have cut ties already, but as it stood, they could not afford to do so. The Lockwood Family, being Cordelia's, was the heart of their financial gains. Yasmina's Family, the Elsworth's, had been a simple Earldom before her marriage which elevated them to a Dukedom. Before their elevation, however, they had still been a powerful Family of Knights and owners of rich ore deposits. They were the backbone of their production line.
Losing either of them meant their entire plan came to a grinding halt. Thus, much of their manpower was used in finding the First Prince, desperate to appease Queen-Consort Yasmina. They found him, and his knights, in the ruins of a chateau in the countryside. From the evidence found, it had been a secret home of the First Imperial Princess, Madeline Vossen-Stone. One that she would often take Noah to, and the first place he went to.
However, due to its destruction, he believed his sister was dead. His mind had completely broke. When they found him, he was near catatonic. He killed several agents who tried to retrieve him, for he believed they were trying to take him away from his sister. His own obsession with her was...problematic. The Noble Faction was only able to break through to him when they told him about the ongoing war.
The moment the Second Imperial Princess's name, Gwenevere Vossen-Stone, crossed their lips, it was as if the world came into focus for him. He recalled something that had irritated him right before Madeline had disappeared. She had seemed infatuated with the man next to Gwenevere.
Vincent.
He knew Madeline well enough to put the pieces together. This chateau, a secret place where Noah and her would come to...indulge themselves, wasn't too far from Gwenevere's territory of Verulia. It was only a few days travel.
If Madeline had gone after Vincent, then Gwenevere would not have sat still. Noah was not a fool. As much as he was wrapped around Madeline's finger, he was not naive. She always took what she wanted. Even Noah.
He tried not to be jealous, but seeing her pine over that...man, if you could call them that, was grating. Now, within the ruins of the chateau, and knowledge of the war in his mind, Noah believed only one thing. Gwenevere had killed Madeline, or at least, that's what it looked like.
The Noble Faction, who had fought with Gwenevere for many years, knew that even she wouldn't be that foolish. If she was involved, they would have captured Madeline, but of course, they didn't inform Noah about this. They needed him motivated.
They could use him as a spearhead in their war against Gwenevere. His mother, Queen-Consort Yasmina, would rally behind him, and upon hearing the news of her daughter's death, Queen-Consort Cordelia would muster the entire force of the Lockwood Family in vengeance. Of course, as they always were, the Noble Faction grew greedy.
They saw an opportunity arise not only to fight back against Gwenevere, but to overthrow the Emperor. As Gwenevere secured the North, the Noble Faction used this, along with the death of Madeline, to declare the Emperor unfit to rule. How could the Emperor allow such discord within the Empire?
This would be the day that the Noble Faction was reminded of the reason why the Emperor was the Emperor. As the Elsworth and Lockwood Families marched upon the Capital, Sol'Valen, the Seat of the Sun, the Emperor mustered the Royal Knights and his own personal guard to defend the city. Despite the poison that the Queen-Consorts had fed him over the years, he was still capable of pushing the invaders from the city with very few casualties on his side.
An Imperial Order was issued: Lay siege to Sol'Valen and be crushed against its walls as the Second Imperial Princess surrounded them, or march their armies North to face her.
This was less of an order and more of an ultimatum. The Noble Faction had no choice. They had been blinded by their greed and paid the price. They underestimated the Sun, whose fading flame they believed they were capable of quenching. They were now at a disadvantage.
Sieging Sol'Valen would take too long. They had to muster all of their forces and march North to face Gwenevere. All of their planning, every single ounce of scheming, had been crushed in a single, momentous instant.
And of course, in their infinite arrogance, they believed themselves capable of stopping the Army of the Phoenix, a name they had come to hear whispered whenever Gwenevere was mentioned. They sought to end it upon the banks of the Northshall River. It was one of the largest rivers in the Empire, being a mile across at its widest.
The Northshall River separated the North from the Central Plains, which despite its name, was more of a westward territory. However, because of its size, it had earned the name. The Central Plains held several Noble Family territories and led into many of the Western Holds. It also led to the Capital itself, Sol'Valen, if one traveled Southeast once crossing the River to the North. Though, it was not a short journey.
Grand bridges were built to traverse the river, and it was at these chokepoints that the Noble Faction hoped to halt Gwenevere's progress. There was a possibility that she could circumvent the entire river by going East and then South, but doing so would take days of travel, and from reports, they had just taken the Venala Desert. The Central Plains were almost directly South from there. To go back East would be inconvenient at best. So, the Noble Faction believed they would march directly South.
With Lucine El'Vaari's wisdom, and Gwenevere's straightforward nature, that is exactly what they would do. Vincent was also in agreement. Of course, that did not mean all of them would march South. With their newfound strength, and their other allies finally rising to arms, a quarter of their army, led by Miranda Everglade and Gwen's second in command, Dame Cassandra, marched East before heading South.
It was here that they would convene the allies who had not joined them in their subjugation of the North. The Everglade Family, along with Dame Cassandra's own Family, the Ravengard's, had been gathering all those in support of Gwenevere for the throne. Including all the commonfolk who had pledged themselves in her service. It was their mission to conquer the East before flanking the Noble Faction, should they still prove a threat, otherwise...Sol'Valen was the target.
This would be the beginning of the final confrontation. One that the Noble Faction had never thought possible, for in their arrogance, they had become blind. Refusing to believe that they were capable of losing, and too prideful to admit the possibility, even with reality bearing down on them.
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