“What!” Gaelin yelled. “What in blazes do you mean we’re under siege!”

“Under siege!” she replied in much the same tone. “Explain to me which part of that escapes your understanding!”

The swordsman stuttered. “That isn’t- I mean- . . . What!”

Annallya groaned, turning to Tull and Lyal. “Do the both of you understand the gravity of the situation.”

They nodded in response. “So how do we get to safety?” Lyal asked.

“We must first leave the palace. Once out, navigating the streets will be dangerous. However, I believe I shall be able to manage it while carrying you all.” she elaborated. “If I can safely make it to one of the gates, then we have a chance. I will shrink down, and together we shall all try and slip passed their notice.”

Tull stepped up. “With all of this confusion and chaos, it’ll be easy for them to overlook a couple of tiny refugees.”

“Precisely. If they are looking for fleeing citizens, however, then we will have a much more difficult time of it. We will be left facing an army by ourselves.” the Titan warned.

“We’ll make it.” Lyal stated as if the outcome had already been determined for them. Gaelin stepped  up.

“To get out, we’ll have to go back the way we came.” he told them. “Come on.”

The swordsman, being more familiar with the lay out of the prison, lead his friends back the way they had arrived. Through the hallway, then the weapons room, down the staircases, and finally the last hallway before the cavernous room where all of the prisoners were held. The sound of running feet up ahead drew them all to a halt. From the dimness, three guardswomen materialized, each of whom was brandishing a sword. They likewise stopped when the small party in front of them came into sight, and both groups were left staring down the other, making no sudden movements. Finally, Gaelin stepped in front of his friends and addressed the guards.

“Just stand aside. We don’t have time to fight each other.” he told them.

One of the guards stepped forward to meet him as the unofficial leader of her own party. “Then return peacefully to your cell, Val’ Saida, and tell your friends to surrender.”

“Bigger things are happening!” he insisted. “Your city is under attack! You could be out there helping to save lives right now! Just let us go!”

But the Titan remained adamant. “You are too dangerous an individual to let loose on the world. Surrender, or we will stop you.”

Gaelin took a second to look over his shoulder, at the friends he had at his back. When he had arrived in Thylara, it had been as a prisoner under execution. His only purpose was to stall for time so that he could give Annallya the tools and instructions necessary to aid in her escape. He had believed his death to be certain from the very beginning. That was why he had refused to kill any Titans during his stay. There was no more point, there was no one to protect. There had been only himself, a man who had no more reason to live than a rock. But standing there behind him, were three good reasons. Three brave and selfless individuals who had chosen to put their own lives in peril so that his could be salvaged. And that was something worth protecting. It was worth remaining alive for.

It is the only cause I have ever seen that is worth going to war over, Annallya had told him.

So long as there is life, the light of the Pillars shines, his father’s voice echoed to him.

“I spared the prisoners during my fights because they had no choice.” he explained to the guards in a low tone. “They would have been killed had they chosen not to fight me. You lot have a choice. Walk away, now.”

He met the eyes of each guardswoman one at a time. “Or under Sun and Stars, I’ll kill you.”

The guardswomen tensed, but held their ground. Each one of them brought their sword up in a defensive manner, and slowly advanced towards him. Gaelin, for his part, drew the hood up over his head, bared his blade, and walked over to meet them. The last few feet were crossed in the blink of an eye, as Gaelin suddenly ran to close the gap. The first guard lifted her sword high so that she might bring it down in one mighty cut. Just as her blade descended, Gaelin lifted his own, right arm held high, tip pointed down, so that the attack slid right off of his sword and to the side. Already anticipating the thrust coming from the guard to his right, he swung his sword overhead, spinning to the right to face her, and brought his weapon down with tremendous force. The mage-wrought metal of legends, propelled by all of the strength of his upper body, seared right through the inferior weapon of the Thylaran smiths, leaving nothing more than a handle, with two inches of metal that ended in a flat edge. Continuing his spin, Gaelin keep his sword moving as he turned back to the first guard, taking advantage of her faulty balance from their first clash, and drew a paper thin line across her throat with his blade. In the same swing, the swordmaster reversed the grip of his right hand, now holding his weapon in a backhanded manner, and plunged the indestructible steel backwards into the armored body of the guard behind him, whose sword he had sliced in half.

He was instantly upon the third guard, but by now more were coming in through the hallway entrance. The hallway was just wide enough to allow Gaelin room to maneuver his sword, while also limiting how many of the guards could come at him at once. He made it even more difficult for them by continuously going on the offensive, taking the fight to them at all times. He pressed them back, flourishing his sword this way and that way, forcing each woman to move where he directed. Two more fell to his blade as the man danced ever closer to the exit. The seventh guard stood right in the doorway, unable to react as she bore witness to the slaughter of her comrades, and the swordsman coming right at her. Charging at full speed, Gaelin found himself flashing back to that night long ago, when he had believed that he fought to protect those he loved. The reality was, he had selfishly abandoned those he loved in order to pursue revenge.

Now, he fought those he cared about, so that the light of the Pillars could shine on for another day.

Stepping into Whirlpool in the Pond, Gaelin spun his body, sword held aloft, and completed his spin with a strike that severed the Titan’s head from her shoulders. The force of the attack was so great, the head rolled backwards a good fifteen feet, leaving the hallway, and ending in the holding room where the prisoners had previously been locked up in. From where he stood, Gaelin could see that this was no longer the case. Shouts and clashes of metal told of the battle that was raging on in that room between prisoners and guards. Titans of varying sizes fought on all levels of the prison, struggling with all of their might to overcome one another. As soon as the helmet clad head rolled into the midst of the room, raising a chorus of CLANGs, the fighting quieted down, as all eyes turned towards the hallway entrance. From that entrance strode a tall, hooded figure, brandishing a sword coated in the blood of those that had tried to kill the innocent men and women under his protection. Gaelin Val’ Saida, last known Guardian of the Pillars of Morning and Twilight, took in the Titans all gazing at him. He looked over his shoulder, to see his friends follow behind. Tull wore a neutral mask that was only betrayed by his piercing gaze. Lyal looked at him with something akin to respect. And Annallya . . .

He could not quite tell what lay within her eyes when she looked at him, but they were wide and unblinking.

He nodded to them, accepting whatever it was that they thought of him, however good or bad it may be. Then he turned back to the Titans and raised his voice.

“Thylara is under siege!” he cried out. “The city burns right now! Everyone, guard or prisoner, needs to leave. Or we all die.”

The room paused for but a second, before the flood gates were opened, and Titans ran for the doors. Prisoners and guards no longer gave each other a second glance as survival overruled their instinct to quarrel. Using a nearby scrap of cloth that had been cut from someone’s outfit, Gaelin wiped the gore from his blade, before sheathing it.

“Annallya, you’ll lead us from here.” he told her.

Having seen Gaelin fight, and the adversity that lay before them, Annallya was only now beginning to grasp the size of the obstacle they confronted. An entire war awaited them outside. Hesitating a moment, she looked back to him.

“Do you believe I shall be able to carry us all safely through a besieged city?” she asked “I- . . .”

She paused as Gaelin laid a hand on her shoulder. “I do.”

For the first time since they had reunited, he took a moment to really look her over. He smiled. “Interesting suit of armor. Custom made?”

The armor Annallya wore was that of a Queen’s guardswoman, and so more intricately designed than the standard guard’s set. The taller guard that Annallya had taken the set from had been just her size, so it fit her form perfectly. Glancing up at him, she returned the smile.

“Merely something that I found lying around. How do I look?” she asked, waiting for the inevitable sarcastic remark.

“Like a warrior.” was all Gaelin said.

Annallya paused, momentarily at a loss for what to say. She was interrupted, or perhaps saved, by the looming shadow of a thirty foot tall Titan. The woman was of dark complexion, and hair worn in the dreadlock style of Titans from the northeastern regions. Standing above the small group, she lifted her foot up, aiming directly for Gaelin. It was one of the women who had tried to have her way with Gaelin on his first day.

“Val’ Saida!” she roared.

Before Annallya could intervene, or before Gaelin could defend himself, another immense figure tackled her away. The second Titan, catching the first one by surprise, delivered two stunning blows to her head, before pushing her to the ground, where she collapsed in a stunned heap. Nefferel turned back to the stunned group of humans, and shrank down to their level.

“How many friends did you make?” Lyal muttered beside him.

“Enough, apparently.” Gaelin replied. Then to Nefferel he said, “I’d say that makes us even.”

But the girl shook her head. “You did more for me than that, I am afraid.”

“Come with us, Nefferel. You’ve got to get out of here, and we can help.” he insisted.

She shook her head. “I have been united with my captured sisters from Oalam. We intend to make our way back together. I only wanted to say goodbye, and to thank you for sparing me, as well as keeping me alive.”

Behind Nefferel stood several Titans, all of which had shrunken down to human size. They all differed in appearance, with varying heights, shades of skin and hair color, and mannerisms. All of them were Titans Gaelin had fought. Some glanced back at him in calm neutrality. Others gazed intently, remembering the battles they had fought against him in the arena. Most, however, smiled at him. Nefferel Stepped forward with her right foot and placed her right fist against her left shoulder, as is the customary salute in Oalam. Each of the other Titans behind her mirrored the gesture. Gaelin hesitated slightly, before imitating their salute, conveying his own respects to them. Nodding in satisfaction, Nefferel tensed up, seeming to be on the edge of some action. At once, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around the swordsman. Caught off guard, Gaelin awkwardly returned the hug. The young soldier held him for a good few seconds, before releasing him and stepping back.

“If you should make good on your escape, and somehow find yourself in Oalam, know that you have friends there, Gaelin Val’ Saida.” she told him.

Without another word, Nefferel turn towards her fellow soldiers, and followed the group as they all ran towards the exit. Gaelin, meanwhile, turned sheepishly back to face Annallya. The Titan stood with her hands on her hips and one eyebrow quirked, but said nothing. Rather, she waited.

“It’s not what you think.” he insisted.

The corners of her mouth quirked in what was the tiniest form of a smile. “And what, pray tell, am I thinking?”

Gaelin opened his mouth to answer, before performing the wisest action of his life by closing it. Annallya laughed.

“The once proud enemy of all Titans is embarrassed to admit that he has made friends with some.” she exclaimed. “How under Sun and Stars did you manage such a feat?”

He grinned shyly. “I had a good teacher.”

Annallya paused as she began to feel a dash of color creeping onto her checks. Fortunately for her, the sound of a clearing throat drew attention away from that.

“Am I the only one who seems to remember that the city is burning?” Tull asked.

But Lyal grinned as he clasped the man on the shoulder. “Let him have his moment, Tull. The man’s been cooped up in a hut by himself for the past five years. Odd’s are he’s never had so many young women speak to him before.”

“Ah-ha,” Gaelin sarcastically replied. “If we’re all done laughing now, we can go.”

Annallya gave him another mischievous smile as she stepped passed him. “As soon as we are all safely away from the city, trust that the laughing will continue.”

She lead her group through the many doors of the prison, finally emerging outside to the full scale wing of the palace. Once there, Annallya returned to her true daunting height of 100 ft tall. One by one her friends climbed onto her soft palms, and together they traversed through the palace. Now that Thylara was under attack, all prisoners and guards had ceased fighting, electing to either escape or help where needed. As such, Annallya found no resistance while making her way through the extensive marble building. Traversing the hallways she had grown up in, it took her only minutes to make her way to the main doors, from which all manner of visitors and dignitaries would enter the palace.

Were it not for her mother standing in her way, she would have gladly sprinted through it.

Mistress Rhaolin stood before the massive doors, naked sword in hand, with a longing gaze directed at the floor. Her head perked up when she heard her daughter come around the corner, looking surprised by her presence. She did not smile this time.

“When you were little, you and Thoren would happen into all manner of trouble,” she remembered. “I had believed that you only required focus for your energy and fancies. Then, you brought all of this onto your own family. This, I could never have imagined.”

“Are you truly attempting to lay the blame of an invading army at my feet, mother?” Annallya asked.

“No daughter. Rather, I lay the blame of our weakened state of response to your freeing of the prisoners. After you had escaped your lawful punishment, killing two guards in the process as well. All for what? An insect?”

Annallya squared her shoulders, taking on a more serious demeanor. “I am not going to waste time arguing with you while our city falls. Mother, you need to leave with Phelonous and Thoren. Have the guards take you to safety.”

Oragale mirrored her posture. “And what of you? Do you believe that those pathetic scraps of dust will protect you?”

“I have no time for this!” she insisted. “Stand aside and let me follow the path I have chosen!”

Her mother bared her teeth. “You would speak to me in such a way!”

Without another word, Annallya’s own mother ran at her, sword at her side. The long skirt she wore was divided in the middle, allowing her to run quite easily, taking Annallya by surprise. Or perhaps it was just the fact that her own mother was charging towards her with a sword. Surprise seemed a reasonable reaction, all things considered.

With her friends in her hands, Annallya could not readily defend herself. Fortunately, the sword forms she had spent the past month learning instructed her on how to maneuver more than just her arms. In addition, some part of her knew on some level that her mother would not kill her. Maiming and injuring, however, was much closer to her parenting style. So Annallya found it easy to anticipate where her first strike would be aimed. Holding her friends securely against her chest, Annallya back stepped her mother’s first slash. Then her follow up slash, bowing her upper body forwards and backwards to keep herself just out of range. Mistress Rhaolin launched a horizontal slash at her daughter again, only for Annallya to dive roll in the direction of the attack, avoiding her sword and gaining some distance. The humans in her hands held onto whatever cloth they could grab. In reality their fate was literally in the hands of their giant protector, which surrounded their bodies like immense pads which kept them from being tossed about like rag dolls. Unfortunately, Annallya could not fight in such a manner. So, once she had rolled to her feet and gained some distance, the Titan placed her hands to the ground and slid the humans off of her palms as gently as possible.

“Run to the door.” she instructed. “I shall join you shortly.”

Without another word, Annallya turned back to face her mother, who only stood gazing at her.

“You care greatly for them.” she noted. “Greatly enough to unleash criminals upon your own loved ones. You have well and truly betrayed us.”

“I am not having this discussion with you, Mother.” Annallya responded. “Nothing I say will touch your ears.”

“I birthed you.” she whispered. “I raised you.”

Mistress Rhaolin charged at her again, winding up another attack. Annallya made no move to defend herself until the last second. Her mother found her strike being met with the longsword of her daughter. Ever the soldier, Mistress Rhaolin continued to launch simple slashing attacks, all of which were redirected.

“From the day you were born, I have given you everything!” she raved. “This entire palace has raised you! Phelonous looked upon you as much of a mother as I have. And you repay us by stealing from your family, and slaughtering your own people! All because of insects! Creatures so far beneath us, they are barely worth stepping on!”

“If you believe that I have wrought such horrors on our lives, try to imagine what our own people have been doing to them for hundreds of years!” Annallya countered.

“Is it not the will of the Stars that the superior should do as they please?” her mother asked, not once relenting her onslaught of attacks. “We are superior to them in all ways.”

“Clearly you have not faced a human at eye level. Otherwise you would understand how grossly mistaken you are.”

Gaelin, Lyal, and Tull stood on the ground in front of the main doors, watching the two Titans spar back and forth in open wonder. They had all seen Titans wreak havoc plenty of times in their lives, and each time it had been a terrible sight. This, however, was new. Never before had they seen Titans fight each other in earnest combat. The skill of their moves was barely overshadowed by how frightening their display of power was. Even Gaelin, who had seen Annallya render a Titan Catcher unconscious, had never witnessed such a drawn out contest of skill. Each sweep of their sword, as ordinary as it must look to them, could have leveled forests. Mistress Rhaolin’s ferocity and relentless attacks seemed limitless in power. No walls built by human hands could stop her assault. She fought like a living force of nature. For all of her power, though, her unstoppable force met the immovable object of Annallya’s bladework. This was the first time Gaelin had seen her new skills in action, and he was struck speechless by the display before him. The way her body flowed and bended from one move to the next, was indescribable. Her sheer power and grace was akin to watching a storm dance. They were Titans in every sense of the word, and they fought each other, while the human men stood at ankle level with them, watching as if it was the last sight they would ever see.

Oddly enough, neither opponent seemed to be fighting to hurt the other. The way they exchanged arguments while they fought, lead the men to believe that the mother and daughter were having a different conversation with their swords. What that conversation was, they could only guess at. They knew that, whatever it was they were saying, was for their ears only. And so they watched, and waited.

“Let me go!” Annallya yelled. “Leave me to follow my own path!”

“You have no path, you have a home!” her mother retaliated while hammering away at her daughter’s defense with more brute force than technique. “You have a family! You cannot leave us! You cannot leave me!”

“I did not leave! I was pushed away, when I saw how dark your world was! I cannot be apart of that! It is not who I am!” she reprimanded her. Turning aside her mother’s latest overhead strike, Annallya went back on the offensive. She forced her mother back through sheer skill with swordplay that Oragale had never seen before.

Her mother clenched her teeth. “You betrayed us, abandoned us, all to learn how to wield a sword? To run away and see the world? To catch the eye of a creature who crawls on the floor?”

“I did not do this for myself mother, I did this for love!” she yelled.

Just she turned another one of her mother’s attacks to the side, Annallya spun her sword around, changing from a deflect to an underhand strike, aimed just above the hilt of her mother’s short sword. The weapon, struck with such force, while held in such an awkward grip, flew from the Titan’s fingers, and landed far behind her with several loud CLANGs following suit. Mistress Rhaolin found herself facing down the tip of her daughter’s blade, for once completely unsure of what was to follow. It should not have been a difficult problem to figure out, though. For all of her anger, Annallya could not hurt her mother. Rather, she sheathed her sword, walked back over to her friends, and picked them up in her hands again. Oragale made no move to retrieve her sword. All that she had had to say had been said. Save for one more question.

“For love?” she asked. “You truly believe that those pests will ever feel love for you? You believe that they will ever see you as anything other than a Titan? A monster?”

Annallya looked over her shoulder at her mother for the last time. “I did not save them for any love they have of me. They have something special in their hearts. Something that could only have come from the Sun and Stars. Something that is desperately needed in our world. Whether they love or hate me, I will see to it that it is preserved.”

She exited through the doors, leaving her mother to escape the city through the Queen’s emergency escape passage. Stepping out into the open air, Annallya was left standing in awe at the sight of her beloved Thylara, once the favored jewel of the Stars, burning to the ground. Everywhere she looked was illuminated by raging fires, allowing any onlooker to easily make out the darker shapes of fleeing citizens, panicking through the streets. Acrid smoke filled the once fresh air, attempting to aid in the Nashvan’s assault on all life within the city. Her people were under attack, they were dying. And there was nothing she could do to save them.

The worst part of it was knowing that they had all brought this upon themselves. Titans were forever locked in their ancient ways of waging warfare for the sake of fighting. All it will ever bring to them is destruction. Thylara was not the first city to be toppled by fellow Titans for little reason, and it will not be the last. The Titan’s could be a race that lived on for thousands of years in glory and honor. It seemed to Annallya that the only thing preventing that vision from becoming a reality were themselves. The Titans would not stop until they had killed themselves for no good reason. Perhaps this was the judgment of the Stars upon them, as punishment for their evil ways. Whatever the case was, Annallya could not change it. She had others to protect. With bravery born from pure need to survive, she charged through the ember laden streets, navigating her way towards the main gates. The journey itself was belied with dangers, as massive rocks, soaked with pitch and lit afire, fell randomly throughout the city. Annallya had to keep as much an eye on the sky above her as she did the debris coated streets. Buildings burst into flames and shrapnel at the blink of an eye. She clutched the men in her hands closer to her chest, both to protect them, and ease herself. Though they could do nothing to help her, she drew comfort from their presence. After more than ten minutes of adrenaline fueled sprinting through the city, the massive gates of Thylara came into sight. The gates were not guarded at the moment, as all of the soldiers were taking cover, preparing for the assault on the walls themselves. Annallya ran straight up to the doors, gently lowered the men she carried to the ground, and then joined them at their own size.

“Are you alright?” Gaelin asked, indicating to her arms. They had received several minor cuts from stone shrapnel. None appeared to be any serious at the moment, so she elected to ignore them.

“I shall be fine.” she assured him.

Lyal inspected them over for a second. “Jess makes the best ointment in Sol-har for patching up cuts like these. You’ll be right as ever soon as we get back.”

But Gaelin stepped up closer to her, his voice dropping to a heavier tone. “But are you alright?”

Annallya knew at once what he was referring to. Much had transpired in such a short amount of time, and they were not done yet. She stood up straighter, and looked him in the eye.

“I do not know. But there will be time to figure such matters out when we are safe.”

He smiled with noticeable pride. “Like a warrior.”

She drew strength from his encouragement and carried on. “Right. Let us begin.”

She lead the way beneath the gates, which were raised high enough off of the ground for humans to duck under. On the other side, the party was met with the sight of the invading army which had formed a ring around the city. To a Titan, the distance between the army and the walls may have seemed no more than 1200 ft. To the humans and the shrunken Annallya, they appeared miles away. Their catapults, as enormous as they were, had no trouble closing the distance with their flaming projectiles. Each catapult was spaced 100 meters away in Titan scale from the next one, with each catapult marking a small cohort of about fifty Titans. Five Titans operated the catapults, loading the ammunition, igniting it, and firing the machine. Others controlled smaller devices shaped like oversized crossbows mounted on three legs, which swiveled in almost all directions, allowing unrestricted aim. The rest prepared their armaments while they waited for the siege to end and the mounted attacks to begin. Many openly slept on rolled out mats, as they knew it would be a long time before they would be needed. Tull indicated to the Titans controlling the crossbow-like machines.

“What are those?” he asked.

“We call them ballistas. They operate much like slingshots, only they are far more powerful. They use stones for projectiles, so armies can collect buckets worth of ammunition while travelling.” she explained.

Tull raised an eyebrow. “What is their purpose?”

“To fire at any soldiers attempting to approach them while small under the cover of night.” she elaborated. “Though they will likely be unable to see us at all, they will be firing in many directions, and they fire dozens stones in a wide volley. Once we are in range, we shall have to watch out.”

The Whistler nodded. “Then let us not keep our audience waiting.”

As one, they began walking towards the front line of the army. Though the ballistas were powerful, they could not cover anywhere near the range of the gigantic catapults. The tiny group had a while yet ahead of them before they would be in range, and so decided to conserve their strength. Tull, true to his title, whistled a song as they marched. The Flight from Yurkshen, a solem tune which, when sung in voice, told the tale of a family’s escape from persecution to a far away land. It fit the atmosphere perfectly, and the rest of the group found themselves humming along, savoring the spell of peace they had. It seemed almost comical to Annallya. After facing such hardship and violence while in Thylara, and knowing what awaited them in the near future, that they should be given such a peaceful and entertaining walk beneath a star lit sky seemed absurd.

After maybe a mile of walking they began to hear the sound of giant rocks impacting the ground. It sounded much like an avalanche all ahead of them. Not long after, the stones they were launching became easier to make out in the dark of night. Recognizing that their comfortable walk was drawing to a close, the group began to jog the rest of the way, warming themselves up for what was to come. After another two minutes, the first stone landed not more than thirty feet away from them, kicking up small geysers of dirt with its impact. More began to fall like a giant halestorm all around them, and the tiny men and woman found themselves running forward for their lives. Much like Annallya’s sprint through the city, they had to keep one eye on the sky for falling rocks, and one eye in front, for the landscape ahead of them was littered with boulders. The distance they had yet to cover seemed only to increase, not decrease. Yet they pressed on, for they had no other option but to try and survive. The volleys came in intervals, giving them precious moments to cover more distance at full speed. Then they would be forced to slow down again so that they could watch for more boulders, while avoiding the ones on the ground. It was slow and excruciating work, but eventually they found themselves closing the distance. Annallya looked over towards her friends and called out to them.

“When you see me move, sprint for the tree line and do not look back! I will join you after a few minutes!”

“Wait!” Gaelin cried out, but she had already moved.

Annallya grew to her full height, surprising the Nashvans, and drawing all of their attention to her, as she closed the last of the gap between them before they had time to react. She ran straight for the ballista as soon as it had finished firing, leaping into the air, and kicking the machine backwards into the Titans loading and aiming it. She then drew her sword and went to work on the remaining Titans. She did not stand still long enough to engage one in single combat for more than one strike. She move constantly, deflecting attack after attack, moving from one opponent to the next, drawing all of their attention and keeping herself alive. In battle, one does not fight many enemies and live for long. She could not stand to fight them by herself and win, she needed to occupy their attention. So she moved, making sure no two Titans had the chance to take her on at once.

“Others are escaping!” she heard a soldier shout.

She barely took notice of the few soldiers running off in the opposite direction, shrinking themselves down to better see their tiny prey. Annallya could do nothing for them, except pray that her friends truly were escaping with their lives. She was quickly becoming boxed in, with only her longer sword and superior techniques keeping her enemies at bay. It was only a matter of time, however, before they would spy their opening.

So this is how Gaelin must have felt, giving up his life to save an innocent one, she thought to herself. I wonder if he ended up discovering some goodness inside of him as well.

Suddenly the soldiers to her right began to cry out and fall to the ground, opening up an escape route which she immediately took advantage of. Sprinting for the tree line, Annallya began to shrink, allowing the fifty foot trees to mask her escape and hide her from pursuers. Once she had fully shrunk herself, she turned around and gazed back at the army. Not a single soldier pursued her at the moment, for they were all trying to give aid to the ten or so women that had fallen. They now lay screaming on the grass, as their comrades inspected their legs. They had all been severely cut through both calves and were bleeding rapidly. Annallya stood there in fascination as Gaelin ran up to her in the forest, blood still dripping from his blade.

“I don’t care how blazing big you are,” he panted. “The next time you get it in your head to face an army, you do it with me.”