The Unwilling Queen

Magic in a bottle

The battle roared in Roedin's ears, blending together in a wave of sound magnified by the pounding of his heart and the beating of his wings. He acted on instinct, five hundred years of practice driving him forward. How many cities had he stormed over the centuries? Not as many as some. Corinth often remained neutral, letting other alphas govern their lands as they saw it. It wasn't their place to tell other sapiens how to live.

Is that how this battle came to be? It wasn't even that big; just a rebellious part of Gallen against Corinth and whatever allies came together because their cities had also been destroyed. Roedin landed on a balcony and gripped the iron railing, resting for a moment as he surveyed the fighting below. The colours from each city were already fading into a mush of red and brown, blood and destruction. Would Corinth have ever forced itself on Gallen if Safira hadn't struck first? They watched this hatred grow from the comfort of Ember Place, helping here and there, but never demanding more, never interfering.

This was not the great war. This was small, a disagreement, and already so many people had died for it. Died for what? What had it taken for them to come together in this moment, strike before the sickness spread so far from Gallen it could never be healed? Hayden and Adelyn had disagreed with alphas before. They had enforced trade sanctions, restricted migration requests, even sent peacekeepers and negotiators to enforce Common Law in the territories. They made treaties with other alphas and leaders of faunid colonies, even helped stave off a few coups when appropriate.

But now, here, they had brought out the full force of Corinth to bring down the Collectors, crush another city, another people.

Roedin watched another building topple over, its foundation ruined, its roof aflame. The Corinthians hadn't come here to save Avery, but she was the catalyst that brought them together. Perhaps the prophecy was true, in a sense. She would be the downfall of civilization by her strength of character, not by her magic.

Here they were, fighting with such strength and magic that the humans were crushed in the middle. Roedin spotted a few of the warriors darting around the streets. They were brave, he admired that, but stupid. They should not be here. Their population was too vulnerable, their numbers already so low.

It is their last battle.

They believed their saviour was here and this was their time, their crusade. A dying species' last gasp before fading into history. If they did not fight for her today there would be no tomorrow for them. It didn't matter if it was true or not; it was what they believed.

But there would be a tomorrow for the world, for Roedin. The Collectors were losing, overwhelmed by the numbers and fury of the faunids and sapiens and plucky humans. The magic that had blasted them earlier was powerful but sparse, only able to hold off so many for so long.

What do you hear?

Roedin heard glass shatter, screams of frustration and wails of agony. He heard the light footsteps of people fleeing, citizens in soft soled shoes not heavy combat boots. The tide was turning, he could hear it in the breeze that swept through the streets carrying smoke and dust and hope.

"Roedin!" Hayden was shouting in his ear. Roedin's senses collapsed into sharp focus, his mind back in the present. Hayden wasn't shouting, he was crouched up ahead, peering around the corner into the adjacent hall. The windows rattled with another explosion in the city, chandeliers tinkling, and paintings titling off-axis.

Roedin took a moment to orient himself; he had no memory of how they got there. He had stormed through the streets on muscle, barely thinking as he swung his sword, processing and dismissing irrelevant events around him. It was the zone. Adelyn placed a hand on his shoulder to ground him. He gripped it lightly and turned his face to give her a smile of gratitude, seeing Niamh nod back. The blow hit him harder than any punch he had taken, any sword he had deflected. For a moment he couldn't remember how to inhale. Adelyn usually reminded him to come out of the shadows, tune out the whispers, and be in the present. Niamh filled that void, but it didn't feel any smaller.