“Comrades! For too long the nobles of this land push us down, oppress our peoples and butcher our kind. No longer! For together we stand as one, together we rise up against them! Together we will fight and topple their corrupted regime! We fight for the values of liberty, brotherhood, and equality! We will not be held down by their chains. No. We will forge the a new future, one for our people, our land, our families. So join now, volunteer for the Republican Army. Join your brothers-in-arms and tear down those who would look down upon us.”

  - Republic of Gratia, Citizen's Army Recruitment Poster

  Princess Anne-Elizabeth Montroi sat upon her throne, her chin resting in her palm. The great hall was empty save for her legionnaires and servants tidying up the place. She ignored them, her focus drawn to the princess staring back at her. Princess Pyra was grinning manically, a sight that disturbed Annalise more than anything else. She could practically see the fiery princess salivating in anticipation.

  The past week had sent her head spinning and only now, with the subdued echoes of sweeping and cleaning that she had a moment to recollect herself. The letters from Arnold had arrived from Mare’s Berth, transported by sympathizers and agents from the newly crowned principality of Monte Del Trisse. They had arrived, Runebound alongside her old friends. Though she was excited, it was the manic princess that seemed even more so. While they shared a lukewarm peace for most days, Pyra now oscilated between rage at Sophie’s new name and title, or excitement at meeting them. Annalise couldn’t help but fear what might result of their meeting.

  To add to her misery, the two factions vying for control over Gratia now brayed at each other in tense stand-off, both the Kingdom and Repuclic having licked their wounds and ready to war once more. Though both sides haven’t engaged in anything more than skirmishes so far, Annalise knew it was only a matter of time before they ravaged the beleaguered land once more. Worse of all, with the emergence of her newly independent territory, both sides were seeking either an alliance or material support despite her insistence on neutrality.

  In this matter, she could at least find some reprieve in Pyra’s strange fascination with her sister, Eulalie, who also served as the current Queen of the Kingdom of Gratia. The more relaxed concession she made months earlier had meant that at least the pressure being exerted by the Kingdom was far less, though its nobles likely still cried for the blood of the usurper despite their monarch’s reassurances.

  At least her one consolation was that her court remained relatively calm. The nobles, knights, lords, and mayors of her domain have become fairly compliant after her initial arrival. The peasantry too, having recognised the peace and calm likely unknown to them for the past decade. It probably helped that Pyra’s undead legion were by far the most menacing force currently operating within Gratia in its entirety.

  Though if the whispers in the ground were true, then the new phase of the war would likely see more than just the people fighting for themselves. Rumors of Traxian assitance flowing to the Republic would certainly make for an unlikely alliance. But given their recent expansionist streak, she suspected that their emperor simply wanted all their surrounding border territories to be within their sphere of influence. A vexing conundrum for their growing reach was something even she could not ignore.

  But armed with the knowledge that the current council of governors of the Republic included Marcel of Valens, the butcher of Monte De Trisse, before she usurped that title by securing the realm. She could count at least two of her siblings amongst those slain by his hand, a crime he had yet to anwser for. An insult that was celebrated as heroic within the Republic.

  May Tessadus grant us the foresight we need, she muttered a soft prayer.

  “The Gods won’t anwser you. They never anwsered me.” Pyra smirked.

  "Perhaps you are right," Annalise scowled, "but perhaps they are watching. Who is to say? Certainly not me."

  She almost frowned before letting it die halfway. A distant memory knocking at the back of her mind. Opening the shuttered window, she could just about remember the horrors of the Mistveil and the Myndiri ruin. The damnable expedition that cost her all her friends. And Sophie. She still remembered the half elf falling to a monsters blow, speared clean through. And the tendrils of some indescribable being that wrapped around the girl, bringing back life to the corpse.

  “Maybe the Gods are really there.” she tried answering once more.

  “And how do you presume that? A miracle? Be honest with yourself, you fool of a princess. If the Goddess truly watched over us, she would wipe out the horrors that plague this world, remove the monsters that roam in the hearts of men and nature.” Pyra leaned in, an impossibly wide grin tearing its way across her face, “Maybe even take me away, freeing you.” She chuckled.

  Annalise leaned back waryily but did not falter. She opened her mouth to speak before catching herself and stopping.

  “Or maybe they do exist, only that our understanding of them are flawed.”

  “Explain.”

  “We seek miracles and salvation. A blessed peace. What if… what if the Gods are with us all the time? That would explain magicks and miracles. And their power, that is what we use for mana and the arcane. But the Gods themselves, they are cruel, callous beings. Uncaring of the suffering done upon us, uncaring of those who would beseech them for aid. Like an ant to a horse. It knows the ant is there, the creature is simply too insignificant to warrant even a glance.”

  Pyra stared at her thoughtfully, then a smug nod soon followed.

  “I am willing to allow that interpretation.” Pyra decreed.

  “Allow? I am more than capable of my own thoughts.” She answered.

  “Hah! So she thinks!” Pyra cackled.

  “Oh?”

  “My lady?” Kimmie quietly whispered from her side.

  Startled, Annalise’s gaze fearfully darted over before calming a little upon realizing who was speaking. Her handmaiden Kimmie slowly reached over and Annalise embraced her cold hand, wrapping it with a gentle touch.

  “Ahh, Kimmie. Sorry. I was… a little dazed.” Annalise murmured.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” The girl’s fingers brushed over hers, with a practiced air of refinement far removed from her past as a barmaid, she spun to address the hall “Lady Collisse, send the maids away and you are free to attend to yourself.”

  The noblewoman demurely bowed before clapping her hands, the servants in the hall quietly acknowledging the command and shuffling out. The noble cast a concerned glance at Annalise, but upon catching herself, she quickly masked the worried look and dipped her head low.

  “Ahh…” Annalise sighed.

  Frustrated, she scratched at her scalp while still finding some comfort from her attendant. The cursed princess, the mad princess, the tainted lady of Gratia. All names that had been levied at her. Titles to demeanour, all dotted with a hint of truth.

  More recently than before, she found herself talking to Pyra more and more. The inescapable nature of the crazed princess lending herself to be the only one besides Kimmie that she could turn to when she was wracked by moments of doubt and guilt. Not that Pyra’s advice have been all that helpful.

  With a diminished sense of self, more often than not, she would reply to Pyra without being aware of her surroundings. To those who understood, they now were fairly aware of the other presence lurking within her. To those who didn’t, she was speaking to nothing, to herself. The embodiment of madness. That she had a legion of the damned and accursed paladins under her control only fueled those fires of the delusional princess.

  “Allowance, yes. Hah!” Pyra snickered beside her, “Think about this. Dozens, maybe hundreds across the centuries! All subsumed, devolved, reduced to nothing but empty husks. All of whom have become a part of me. And yet, here you remain.” She chuckled.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Indeed. Here I remain.” Annalise grunted.

  “A most peculiar soul.” Pyra giggled.

  Trying to divest herself from the madness, she turned to Kimmie.

  “Did I… did I mention anything while court was in session? Anything I should know?” She asked timidly.

  Kimmie furrowed her brow, the girl then moved to adopt a more collected posture.

  “Nothing of immediate import. Seneschal Alain has matters in hand. Though in two days time there will be more emissaries from both the Republic and Kingdom.” She paused, then perked up as she remembered something, “Oh, General Iseult has asked that you should consider reinforcing the borders before the emissaries arrive to crete a projection of strength. That should be all.”

  “Hah… thanks.” She held onto her attendant tenderly now that no one else remained in the hall.

  Kimmie did not shrink away, allowing the display of affection to carry on at Annalise’s leisure. Her attendant had grown more used to life at court, though Annalise could always spot the moments when flashes of panic and guilt seemed to strike. For Kimmie now knew more wholly the details behind her current position, how she had very much lost all that she held dear. And that she should’ve been dead were not for Pyra’s machinations. A debt that she still knew not how to repay.

  She shuddered. Pyra claimed to have already long since freed the girl, much like she had done with the former members of Ruinebound. Yet Annalise could not shake the sinking feeling that there was still more that the princess had hidden, more that they had yet to know. For one thing, she noticed how Kimmie’s memory seemed to be far superior to that of any normal humans, able to remember even the most minute of details. Her only flaw seemed to be a relatively delayed emotional adaptability to changing situations, but even that was changing. Annalise couldn’t help but think that what Pyra did with Kimmie and Runebound were more akin to experimentals rather than outright benevolence.

  But they shared mind and body now. She had not seen Pyra command her subordinates or use her body for purposes beyond what had already been done. For her chaotic and uncontrollable nature, Annalise considered the deranged princess to be relatively honest and direct. If she had a want or desire, she would state it clear as day without any reservation. In this regard, Annalise felt a momentary sense of shame wash over her. At this point, she should be beyond doubt. At least, to the point where she could just ask and Pyra would likely answer. Yet at the same time, she didn’t know if it was a question she really wanted to know the anwser to.

  “A little sad, hmm?” Pyra taunted.

  “Enough. No use trying to rile me up at this point.” Annalise retorted.

  With a huff, she gently patted Kimmie’s side. The attendant registering the signal and shuffling away to give her space. Annalise used her arms to push hard upon the throne, her singular leg exerting even more force to lift herself up. Kimmie rushed to support her, the girl having already retrieved Annalise’s crutch in anticipation.

  Hoisting herself into position, she lowered her left arm into its familiar place resting on the shoulder rest as her fingers curled themselves around the wooden grip below. Kimmie bobbed her head in encouragement, Annalise returning the gesture with a small smile.

  “Hup.” She grunted.

  After a day at court, the first step off the throne was always the hardest. Beyond the soreness from remaining sitting for so long. She often felt burdened by each day’s events. The decisions she had to make, the responsibilities that continued to weigh her down. It was a tiring process, one in which her training had been cut short by the revolution so long ago.

  Now, here she was. Once golden-blue walls now just a faded out reminder of the past. The paintings and decorations that adorned the royal home replaced by emptiness or what little arms and armor they could afford to keep on display instead of issuing to troops. The lively halls that were busy with servants and friends nothing more than a hollow shell of its former self. Hundreds still worked in the castle, but these days, one could go minutes without anything more than a curt hello or bow. Hushed whispers in lieu of cheery conversations.

  Her only consolation prize about the current state of affairs was the relative stability her realm was now in. Once she had purged any republican or loyalist strongholds in her initial push against the region, most of the peasantry and the rest had quickly fallen in line. Since then, they had been able to rebuild and restore most of what was lost during the initial decade of the civil war. A small victory in the grander scheme of things, but a victory nonetheless.

  She walked past one of the castle’s windows, the reflection of herself and Kimmie besides her staring right back. A flash of lightning and subsequent boomed briefly made her wince. When she looked back, she could see the clouds in the distance growing gloomier. In the mirror too, there was now another. Pyra perched up behind her, her hawkish eyes accentuating the devious smirk cutting across her visage.

  “Storm seems to be brewing.” She mumbled aloud.

  “It would appear so.” Kimmie confirmed her observations.

  “Hope it doesn’t delay Arnold’s group.” She spoke to her other companion.

  “It will not. For my will drives them forward.”

  Annalise grunted, not quite trusting herself to speak.

  “My lady?” Kimmie queried at her sudden shift in demeanor.

  “Nothing. Nothing.” Annalise absently replied before preparing her crutch to move once more, “I think I would like to rest for a while at the gardens today.”

  “Of course.”

  Carried by the solemn yet familiar silence between them, Annalise allowed Kimmie to lead her to the gardens. To a quiet comfort that she wished would last far longer than it could. Peace, it felt for her, was a precious resource constantly being squandered and lost.

  The afternoon came and went without much fanfare. A slow but much appreciated break from the usual regimented chaos that came from life in court. But after a quick break in the gardens followed by a meeting with General Iseult, the desire for a relaxing evening slowly faded under the unease of inaction. He had emphasized the need to further refine their armed forces, the Gratian reluctantly admitting to her about his lack of confidence in their troops should things turn sour with both the Republic and the Kingdom itching for war once more.

  The sky was fast turning gray, the cold winds signalling imminent rains that would sweep across Gratia. But she stood at the head of a mighty force, or rather, a hastily assembled but still formidable gathering of soldiers, chevaliers, and Pyra’s undead knights. Though she had little ability to pass any hard policies regarding the strengthening of borders, nor was she under any illusions that two days would be enough for any sort of proper demonstration, she had her own ideas.

  Knights and men-at-arms drilled alongside their undying comrades. Two commanders stood on the field. One Centurian Kvuos of Primus Lyran’s legion and Lord Gascard from Monte Del Trisse’s noble ranks. Hundreds of soldiers gathered within the hour including some of the castle guard.

  Unlike the motley undisciplined militia that she conscripted in the surge through Gratia who were carelessly embedded to augment the undead ranks. The chevaliers and knight orders that remained were a far more organized force capable of independent action.

  For her, however, the sheer scale of the threats arrayed against her nascent state required more than that. She needed absolute unity between Pyra’s legionnaires and the official forces of her land. With much of the militia dispersed to became part of the peasantry or gendarmes for security, it meant that whatever force she now wanted to build would have to be like a scalpel. A surgical tool to cut through their opponents, unable to rely on sheer brute force that came from frightening monsters and numbers.

  Furthermore, it seemed a better policy to not exclusively associate her territory with the undead, however much of a role they had already subsumed in society. She paused, the question only just rising to her mind. Just how much have they actually integrated? And how many actually have free will like Kimmie and Runebound? Realizing that she had never posed these questions to Pyra terrified her. She had been so apathetic to the state of the world at first that such things seemed trivial at the time. Now however, rulership had opened her eyes to anxieties that she suddenly found front and center.

  Shaking her head, she tried to distract herself from the distressing thoughts of an army of sentiment undead. She turned to the Unbroken beside her, motioning for the warrior to carry out his task. The silent sentinel gave no indication of acknowledgment until he stepped onto a podium to lift and direct three differently colored flags.

  With a swish of the green, blue, and red, his signal was relayed to the commanders on the fields under Monte Del Trisse. Orders recieved, Annalise watched as the formations of troops shifted in respone. Undead soldiers clad in ancient but warded armors formed an impenetrable shield wall. The lighter men-at-arms darting around their flanks to plug up any gaps as well as to harrass potential enemies. A few riders playing the role of an opposing force mimicked breaching the undead wall. Fresh Gratian chevaliers would then ride forward to hold the gap and counterattack. Like a tide slamming against a beach before receding only to return with just as much force. The fields of soldiers buckled and surged in the sudden drill.

  For the first hour, they would stumble against one another. The stiffness of the dead hindering the mobility of the living. Just like how the impaitence of the army would often push too far or break formation, the orders needing to be directed by ear rather than by instinct and absolute obedience. Over time however, the flow would become more cohesive, more coherent in creating a unified front.

  She wasn’t planning to revolutionize warfare. She just wanted her soldiers to be able to trust in their undead comrades. For many, their visage and ghoulish apperance along caused great concern. Perhaps even more so at their silent, unmoving, unbreathing, and unfeeling stances. But those were the same weaknesses that she planned to mold into a strength. Aside from the undead paladins and actual undying knights that could manuever with great autonomy, the rest of the horde was less fortunate. Thus, she saw them as not just a wall or hammer, but as the anchor for which the rest of the army would revolve around.

  A task that would at least keep her mind off her doubts, give her something to focus on. Though judging by how Pyra seemed curiously entranced and delighted by the martial demonstration. She couldn’t help but feel this was yet another mistep. Another step forward onto whatever the crazed princess’s plans might be.

  Whatever the case, Arnold’s company would arrive soon. Likely the same day as the diplomats and emissaries. She reasoned that should a reckoning come, it would happen then. And for that, she would have to prepare. But right now, she had no real idea how. So she signalled to the Unbroken once more, motioning for a shifting of the drill. It obeyed unquestioningly, raising the flags to direct the troops.

  May the light of the Goddess banish the darkness which clouds my mind, and may Tessadus grant the courage to uphold my convictions. May we be blessed by the stars.