One war. Two Sisters. One end.
There is no running from it. Fate shall have its way as both daughters of Stormband take to the field of battle. Each with one goal - vengeance.
Approximately 130k words.
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A strong heart beats for a thousand lives, while a weak heart beats only for itself.
A wise saying (source unknown)
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Slinging herself out of the saddle before her black dragon ever touched down on the dusty and bloodstained canyon floor, Cassandra wasted no time. The creature left to fend for itself amongst the dead littering the ground, she stormed the remaining distance towards the ruins of what had long been considered an impenetrable fortification from where she landed.
But, as of the fading of this day, the last of the year, Mours Towers no longer stood as that impressive reminder of the past's failures. Its destruction was complete and its downfall was just another notch in her belt. Something she felt inside her proving once more she was not just some pot scrubber like Taskmistress Ingla had often proclaimed. At times, Cassandra wanted to seek her out and make sure she understood exactly how wrong she had been about the young girl who she'd often whipped gleefully with a switch.
But now, there were more pressing matters to attend to. The stone fortification's northern most tower and half its wall were buried under a section of the canyon wall collapsed by Cabbat's explosive powder. And the residue from the viscous spittle from dragon maws smoldered and lingered. Only hours before had the entire site been ablaze.
On her chest, under her armor, rested Cassandra's medallion. Not long ago, she had felt the hint of warmth that had long been missing. Now, it was cold once more. Far too cold for what she had hoped to find upon reaching her soldiers and this red-headed woman with a silvery necklace they had claimed to have captured on the field of battle. The lack of any sensation at all at this point didn't bode well. Cassandra was already prepared for what she was mostly sure was disappointment. Even if she held on to a thin sliver of hope that such would not be the case.
"Where's she at?" the general barked. The troop of her soldiers she approached near the still standing southern tower encircled the few prisoners that had been deemed worthy of being taken. She was sure that her men would have a good reason why each had not been executed on the spot. Then she added, "I don't have time to waste."
