Seven days after the events at the Goddesses’ Altar

Vio, Knight-Captain of Etria and the newly installed Viscountess Monstadt, donned her armor from within her chambers.  She had received a new suit of leaf-green armor as a gift from Her Majesty upon her investiture, and was filled with no small amount of pride as she fastened the strings and buckles which held it upon her.  Upon its breastplate was a heraldic representation of the Tree of Ascension, the symbol of the entire kingdom.  And where, according to since-disproven legend, the goddess Elana returned to the empyrean after defeating and sealing the fell goddess Raesha.  Another mystery still to be unraveled.

She had known that there would be an age of strife and conflict following the events on the Goddesses’ Altar a week prior, but she had not expected how quick such conflict had arisen.  And she had hoped to have a few days to relax and recuperate after her travels across the lands with her former traveling companions Zethira and Lady Elissa, but circumstances disallowed such luxuries.  

Already there were reports of numerous bandit raids along the borderlands.  Such events were far from uncommon over the previous four decades, but the intensity with which they had occurred within the past few days was more than suspicious or coincidental.  The only explanation was that a couple of bandit leaders had gotten hold of one of the Aetherial Shards scattered throughout the land and gotten drunk on a bit of divine power.  Such was too often the fate of those who succumbed to the temptations of power, and it was both her duty and great privilege to see any who threatened the peace and stability of Vilhold brought to justice.

A frantic knock came on the door as she finished the final preparations, latching her shin and thigh plates securely before grabbing her greatsword and answering the door.

“Oh, Dame Monstadt!  Oh, sorry, it’s Lady Monstadt now, isn’t it?”

Before Vio stood Sarala Mirael, a promising young squire and a swordswoman under her retinue.  Her stunning red hair reminded Vio a little bit of Lady Elissa, but whereas the princess was petite with short, shoulder-length hair, Sarala was tall and broad, as much as she was, with long, flowing hair neatly tied in a ponytail at her back.  Vio had informed her on more than one occasion that it was strongly ill-advised for a knight to have long hair— a weakness that would be exploited on the battlefield— but Sarala had insisted and Vio had never had the heart to order it cut.

Vio shook her head.  “Please, either is fine.  I imagine you bring word from Her Majesty?”

“Unfortunately, the situation is far more dire.  A raiding party has been spotted near the outskirts of Etria.  Lieutenant Lavarre has already started scrambling our soldiers but–”

Vio grabbed Sarala’s hand and the two began walking through the halls of Castle Vilhold at a hurried pace.  The familiar scent of earth and wood from within the Tree of Ascension, in which the castle was carved, was a calming one, though there was no calm to be had.  Soldiers were rushing about and the various castle staff were being escorted into the basement and other safe rooms throughout the castle.  This certainly seems more dire than just a simple raiding party.

“Sarala, please brief me with everything you know.  Any information about who the individual is, their numbers, if they’ve requested to parley first, or whatever other demands they might be making.”

“You’re going to negotiate a surrender?”

“No.  I will defend Etria and Her Majesty with my dying breath if I must.  But knowing the enemy and what they seek is the first step to devising countermeasures.”

“Apologies, Lady Monstadt.  The forces number about one hundred, and the leader is no one either I or the castle guard recognize.  Their leader seemed to be well armored, but most of their army was equipped with little more than shortswords and farm equipment.  As for their intentions, I could only speculate.  If these are bandits, they might simply seek tribute, but–”

“Round up all of the soldiers we can muster and have them evacuate the townsfolk into the castle.  Form defensive perimeters around the city, and concentrate our troops near the castle.  Do not engage the enemy without my leave unless you come under attack first.”

“But, Milady–”

“Sarala, I believe the situation commands such a response.  As for me, I shall have an elite strike force prepared and engage the raiding party personally.”

“Yes, Lady Monstadt.  I shall relay your orders at once.”

Vio shook her head as she cleared a path and made her way up the stairs to the ground level while Sarala raced ahead of her.  Someone so bold as to march an army of a mere hundred soldiers straight to the city would need to either be extremely foolish, extremely desperate, or have some sort of power that would make them feel certain of their success.  And considering that thousands of shards of exactly that sort of power had been falling from the sky over the past week, Vio knew which of those was the most likely option.  And she knew that she was likely the only one who stood any chance of what might this fell cretin could bring down upon Etria.

“Lady Monstadt,” a rather irritating voice said.  “Will you be leading us into battle yourself?”

Before her stood Lieutenant Maxwell Lavarre, the second son of Baron Werner Lavarre.  Like many among the ranking knights of the Nation of Vilhold, Lieutenant Lavarre had been given his position more as a sinecure than for any merit that warranted such a title.  It was a longstanding practice which irked her to no end, but the nobles did hold sizable sway in Vilhold just as they did in many other countries.  And even Her Majesty, despite being able to act autonomously of them to an extent, still had to contend with ensuring that discontent among the ranks did not conflagrate into rebellion, whether overt or covert.

“I will, Lieutenant.  I want a strike team of two dozen to accompany me at once.”

“Two dozen?  Against an army of that size?”

“The remainder will continue the evacuation of the populace into the castle.”

“Evacuate?  Lady Monstadt, I mean no disrespect, but–”

“I gave an order.  Lieutenant.”  

“Ye– Yes, at once, Lady Monstadt.”

Vio shook her head and sighed.  No disrespect?  With that inflection, you could have fooled me.

She passed through the castle gates and into the courtyard.  Numerous people, humans and beastfolk alike, were huddled together and being ushered into the castle.  Among others were plenty of elderly, crying children, screaming babies, and very worried mothers trying to care for them.  It was regrettable that the times were such that such drastic actions were warranted, but so many lives were at stake.  And if the leader of this force did have the power of an Aetherial Shard, there was no guarantee Vio would be able to fight while also having to defend potential hostages.

She wasn’t sure who deserved more of her ire right now, Dragon Queen Lyseria or Raesha, nor did the question deserve more than a passing thought.  Right now, she was about to unleash her righteous, angelic fury upon the scoundrels who dared threaten her adoptive home.

Five minutes passed before the strike team was assembled.  There were twenty five soldiers in total, including Lieutenant Maxwell.  Most of whom were eager young recruits, enlisted within the past five years, and all looking for a chance at glory.  She would have preferred some soldiers with more experience, but it was better than nothing and time was of the essence.

“Soldiers,” Vio said.  “You will all accompany me to the battlefield.  Your orders are simple: restrain and incapacitate the enemy army.  Capture them alive for interrogation if at all possible, but not at the risk of your lives or those of your fellow soldiers.  Do not, under any circumstances, engage with the leader of the army.  He is a force beyond any of you.  You will leave him to me.”

“Captain Monstadt?” one of the soldiers asked.  “How can you be certain?”

“I have my suspicions, but the particulars are a state secret.  I cannot speak more about this.  In any case, you have your orders.  Now, move out!”

“For the Pride of Vilhold!” the soldiers chanted in unison.

Vio nodded in assent, but underneath, she was furious.  She had been drilled in the ways of loyalty and honor for nearly a century.  But such things as ‘pride’ or ‘glory’ were far less important than lives, families, and the general welfare and prosperity of the people and nation she served.  

It was something she only realized during her travels, something Zethira had taught her, even if neither of them had known it at the time.  Yes, the half-dragon spellsword was crass, cussed like a sailor at times, defied all sense of decorum, status, and honor, and wasn’t afraid to tell off anyone, no matter their status.  But she was always willing to put her body and life on the line to protect Lady Elissa, and did so on more than one occasion.  And if that wasn’t an expression of true love, what was?

Vio filled herself with that resolve as she led the soldiers away from the castle and toward the bandits.  If it came to it, she would make the ultimate sacrifice.  Of course, Zethira was a bit too cavalier about throwing her own life away in the name of victory.  And so she would further resolve to use every ounce of her strength to ensure she and her knights would not have to pay such a price to defend their home.

As her team marched onward to the north under the shadow of the massive Tree overlooking the entire city with its millions of branches, an eerie quiet filled the air.  It wasn’t how a city was supposed to be— hastily evacuated, doors left ajar and windows left open, personal effects left behind.  The only solace she could take, wandering through the streets with her soldiers behind her, was that it would be resolved quickly, forcefully, and decisively.

The sound of a horn reverberated through the hills above Etria as the Knights of Vilhold passed through the outskirts of the city, but Vio remained dauntless even as some of her soldiers quivered in their armor.  For some of them, it was their first assignment, and their breaths quivered with trepidation.  But the nephilim warrior leading them had eighty years of training and forty years as a Knight-Captain under her belt.  And that experience, coupled with the Aetherial Shard she’d been granted by Her Majesty, would see the day.

They’d arrived at a small field overlooking Etria, and, just as expected, about a hundred soldiers were awaiting them.  Everyone but the leader appeared just as Sarala had said— ragged, green, and poorly equipped.  But the leader exuded a fearsome aura that confirmed her fears.  They were a Shard-wielder.

“You there!” Vio said.  “What business do you have in our lands?”

She drew her greatsword and pointed it at the person in the full-plate.  They were taller than Vio, nearly as tall as Zethira, and much broader.  Their armor was silver but emblazoned with no crest or other markings, and their helmet had little more than a small eye-slit, obscuring their appearance.

“Is it not obvious, Lady Knight?  You have something that belongs to me.”

“And everyone else?”

“To draw you out, of course.  Much easier and safer to have you come to me than try to infiltrate your little city.”

“Then, you will leave the people of Etria be?”

“Ah, surrender.  A wise choice.  To answer your question, I have no quarrel with these peasants.  Though, my men are hungry and will need to take their fill of your town’s treasure before they see fit to leave.”

Vio turned to her lieutenant.  “Maxwell.”

“Yes, Lady Monstadt?”

“Deal with these irregulars.  I will face their leader alone.”