"There is no more important quality

in a man than loyalty"



Athreia had never felt so strange, so calm, so... at peace.

In that little world lost in the mountains, among people she had never seen, she was feeling more and more at home.

It had only taken her a few days to find her place, and now everyone was looking to her for help, advice or support.

And she did her best day and night, never refusing to lend a hand; it was what she had always done, but now instead of leading troops or assigning guards she built fences, tilled fields, or repaired houses.

And she was happy.

It was as if that village and its inhabitants had the power to suck all the bad thoughts, worries and fears out of her mind.

In order not to forget old habits, she had also agreed to teach that trio of urchins who always hung around her how to handle a sword.

Technically, she was still a prisoner, yet she didn't feel like one in the slightest; she had even forgotten to have a servant stone implanted in her neck.

In the evening, after a hard day's work, she and everyone else gathered in the longhouse to have dinner and tell stories, stories of suffering, pain and hope that had opened her eyes to a world that she would never have imagined.

Only now was she beginning to understand how little she had always known about the world around her, realizing that ultimately centaurs weren't that different from other monsters; they too suffered, struggled and hoped for something better for their children.

However, all of them agreed on one thing: that they were happy now, and that they would do anything to protect those who had given them a life worth living again.

For this reason, among those who had battle experience there was already talk of establishing a special unit to be put at the service of Daemon and his vision, and naturally every time the topic came up Athreia was the first one everyone looked at as a potential leader.

It was in those moments that the girl remembered who she really was and her condition, and however incredible it might be she always tried to escape by preferring other topics.

Also because, given the isolation of the village, all the tribulations that the Free State was facing seemed so distant from there, as if nothing could threaten the tranquility of that happy island.

This was at least until the day when a messenger, lost in the middle of a storm, came to the village along the road to the Castle, immediately being surrounded by a large crowd of curious people looking for news.

"The attack on Grote Muren was a success, and we regained control of our entire territory. Now the Commander and his men are headed east to defeat our enemies once and for all."

"Is there any news of the other Vanlian Furies?" Athreia asked, suddenly feeling the memory of her sister and her companions resurface.

"They weren't in the fort, so it's likely that they are still following the main army."

The thought of Medea alone and at the mercy of those snakes, with the weight of what remained of their unity on her shoulders, took her breath away for a moment; her sister was more courageous and enterprising than she herself might have thought, but too often she let herself be guided by instinct without thinking.

How could she stay there safe while Medea and her companions risked their lives in the service of those who had no scruples about sacrificing them in order to win?

To hell with duty! To hell with honor!

Now she knew there might be another way. She had lost Stavros, Theon and many others, but he could still try to save someone.

But what could she do? She was still a prisoner.

"Just go."

"Lasik..."

"Just promise you'll be careful. And above all, that you will come back to us. There is still a lot of work to do here. The children love you after all. You don't want to make them sad, right?"

"Thank you... thank you all."



Never in his life would General Lefde have thought of seeing something like this with his own eyes: losing a third of his national territory without even having faced the enemy.

Unfortunately, Eirinn was not a nation where it was easy to plan a war, at least not the eastern part; too many plains, too many low hills, and no narrow passages or valleys in which to exploit the territory to one's advantage.

In simple words, the dream of every invading army and the nightmare of anyone who has to stop it.

The plains around Ysen were perhaps the only place in the whole country where the defender could have the slightest advantage; the city stood on the banks of a lake and was surrounded by a series of low hills on which it produced its famous wine; from there passed the road that led straight from the western border to Faria.

Having to keep his image as clean as possible and the population under control, Daemon certainly would not have risked devastating the vines a few weeks after the harvest; therefore he would have had no choice but to pass along the left shore of the lake, where the woods and muddy ground would have made his artillery less effective. At the same time, it was a perfect point from which to easily fall back in case of defeat, but this was something that Lefde for obvious reasons would never have said openly to Victor.

All the makings were there for the largest and most impressive battle the Grand Duchy had ever seen in its entire history, even larger than those fought during the Holy Wars. Every single soldier had been mobilized, the mass recruitment had more than doubled the size of the regular army, not to mention the mercenaries.

However, there was one thing that Lefde needed badly at that moment, and which they no longer seemed to have: time.

Abel had done his duty to the end at the cost of his life, but the general mobilization from the east had taken longer than expected, and many soldiers had yet to be assigned to battalions or had not yet arrived.

They had to gain some time, even just a few more days.

But how?

"Haselworth has taken control of Mablith, but he still hasn't moved. He may be waiting to consolidate his supply lines."

"And if he were to succeed, he would put us in even more trouble."

"I am aware of this, Your Grace. That's why we have to try to hit them. If we could interrupt them or even just slow them down we would gain precious time to complete our defenses."

"Interesting point." Philippe replied acidly. «If it weren't for the fact that the enemy already controls every single road and path from here to the border. How can we think of striking so deep into enemy territory?"

"A small team of stormtroopers could do it."

It was almost incredible how immediately after the crushing defeat at Mistvale Victor had begun to think in a much more cold and rational way than before, managing, as in that case, to read Lefde's mind and reach his own conclusions.

Perhaps, Lefde thought, he had understood the importance of what was at stake, or perhaps simply the natural affinity with the ancient art of analytical reasoning typical of his family had finally reawakened within him too.

"The only solution is to act under the cover of darkness. We are in the period of waning moons, so the nights are very dark. Right here the road between Mablith and the border passes a stone's throw from the forest. The spies informed us that the rebels move their convoys in the early hours of the day precisely to go unnoticed and avoid ambushes. A quick attack that destroys a good number of supplies would block their operations for at least another week."

"Let's hear it, then. In your opinion, how should we manage to get so deep into enemy territory without being detected, especially at night?"

Medea immediately took a step forward: "I can help you."

It had already been a few days since Lefde allowed the mercenary commanders to attend the meetings, even though they could only intervene if asked.

"And how do you think you can help us, little girl?" asked Philippe, increasingly annoyed

"The sight of us centaurs is equal to or even a little worse than that of a human being, but both our sense of smell and hearing are very developed. This is how we can move easily even in the dark. It wouldn't be a problem for me and my companions to get there undetected."

"There you go, problem solved. Let the centaurs deal with it."

"There are few Furies left, and the convoy could be escorted. We can't send so few soldiers. We will need at least another twenty riders, and someone who knows the area very well. And these are the lands in which you grew up, Earl of Hatlen, or not?"

"What!? Should I be in charge of this kind of suicide mission?"

"It's not a suicide mission. You will have Commander Ypsilanti and his warriors with you. That point is too far from any settlement for you to be caught by surprise, especially if you move stealthily."

"And what if that damned guy has already guessed what you want to do? It wouldn't be the first time."

"There are at least five other points along that road ideal for an ambush. It's impossible that he can guard them all. We will tell our spies to keep an eye on enemy movements and warn you in case of danger. After you strike, you will hastily retreat before the enemy can try to block your way."

"Your Grace, tell him something. I can't imagine you would approve of something like that."

Instead, Victor dramatically raised his hands: «Did you forget? Now he is the Commander.»

"Grandson, you're not serious!? You can't..."

The way Victor looked at him would have made even a ghost's blood run cold: "Don't you dare tell me what I can or can't do. Or have you forgotten who the Grand Duke is?"

At that point Philippe couldn't help but shut up.

"You have your orders, General. You are free to choose the soldiers to bring with you on this mission on your own. That's all."

"Mark my words. You'll regret it, Lefde."



The place chosen for the ambush was an area of fields perfect as a battlefield, since the harvest had already taken place given the imminent end of summer and the new sowing had yet to take place.

Philippe would never have admitted it, but if it hadn't been for the centaurs and their refined senses it would never have been possible to cross the enemy front and sneak in behind so easily.

They had slipped within a stone's throw of Mablith without anyone noticing, moving through the trees in the dead of night like invisible shadows.

Now everything was ready for the ambush.

The main road from Grote Muren to Mablith was only a few hundred meters ahead.

"Has the convoy left?" Philippe asked the explorer he had sent ahead

"Yes my Lord. Five wagons loaded with grain.»

"The escort?"

"Twenty soldiers, mostly recruits."

Maybe that could really be the right opportunity to rehabilitate. Philippe was aware that the defeat at Mistvale had contributed significantly to his nephew's loss of trust in him.

But if he had managed to carry out that operation, perhaps highlighting himself by personally leading the charge, he would have been able to regain some position against that presumptuous careerist Lefde.

Medea, however, was in a completely different mood, trembling at the thought of finally being able to return to fight those damned rebels who had taken her sister and many of her friends away from her.

Kassia and her other comrades were much aware of what was burning in her soul, but although they too wanted to avenge their comrades they were not sure if they were doing the right thing, and the new deputy commander felt guilty for having wanted to put that burden on Medea's shoulders at all costs.

On the one hand they understood her state of mind, -she was still just a little girl thrown from one moment to the next into a role for which perhaps she was not yet ready- on the other, precisely for this reason, they realized that her thirst for revenge was pushing her down a dangerous path.

"The convoy will be here shortly. Prepare to attack."

"Wait. Someone's coming."

"What!?"

"... This smell... no, it can't be..."

When Athreia emerged from the trees, Medea and the others looked at her as one would look at a ghost.

"Sister! You're alive!"

"Medea. Gaia be praised, I found you in time.»

If Medea and the other Furies were very happy, Philippe seemed on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

How did that damned mare save herself?

A slowly approaching light through the trees heralded the appearance of the convoy on the road nearby.

"Here they come." said the General trying to take control of the situation. "Stay ready."

"Come on, sister. We'll talk later. The Furies are yours again. Lead us into battle one more time."

"No Medea, you don't understand. You have to stop."

"What!?"

"It's just a trap. They know that you are preparing to attack them. There are other troops further back following the carts. They'll pounce on you as soon as you leave the woods."

"Impossible!" Philippe retorted. "Our spies told us nothing about it."

"I'm telling you the truth. I saw them with my own eyes."

Even though Philippe displayed confidence, it was impossible not to have some doubts, and in fact even the human knights showed hesitation when faced with this revelation.

"Maybe we should make sure." someone dared to say

"Aren't you going to listen to this monster? My scouts are the best of all! If they say there is no danger, then it means that it is so!"

Athreia glared at him with a look full of anger: "Are they by any chance the same scouts who you ordered to make that avalanche fall on us?"

"What are you talking about, sister? It was the rebels who caused the avalanche."

"The real responsible is the person next to you now. The rebels lost thousands of men that night, do you really think they would have allowed such a massacre if they had actually been responsible for it?"

"It's nothing but a bunch of nonsense!"

"Listen to me Medea, please. It doesn't have to end like this. There may be another way. These people don't want to hurt anyone."

"Sister, what are you talking about?! They are the enemy!"

"No, little sister. They are just people who want to live in peace. And they are trying with all their might. What right do we have to decide that what they are doing is wrong?"

"She is a traitor! She sided with the rebels!"

"General, the enemy has almost reached the ambush point! We can't wait any longer!"

So it was that Medea did what she would never have thought of doing: she aimed her bow at her sister.

"Don't force me, Athreia. Step aside."

"I won't do it." she replied, staring at her like when she acted as their mother in scolding her when she was little. "If you want to pass you'll have to kill me first."

This created a dramatic stalemate, with Athreia determined not to move, and Medea and her other companions not having the courage to force her.

"Enough now! Soldiers, arrest this traitor! We will deal with her after the assault!"

"I'm afraid there will be no assault, General Montgomery."

Like spirits in the darkness, dozens of rebel soldiers literally appeared out of nowhere all around the unit, surrounding it without escape and holding it under the threat of their infernal hand cannons.

"You!" Philippe shouted angrily at Daemon, who was glaring at him from the saddle of his horse with Scalia at his side.

"You have no escape. If I were you, I would give up right away."

"What does it mean!?" Athreia said, equally shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"You pretend not to know, you stupid beast? It's obvious that you led them here!"

"Don't blame Athreia, she didn't know anything about it."

Medea was also speechless, but for the simple reason that neither she nor her companions had noticed anything; probably the reappearance of their commander had shocked them to the point of diverting all their attention elsewhere, preventing them from noticing the enemy who was slowly surrounding them undisturbed.

"We finally meet in person, General. You know, I have many friends who are eager to express their gratitude to you for what you have done at Gael."

Athreia suddenly had an epiphany.

"But then, those soldiers I saw..."

"Only disguised peasants. We certainly don't have so many troops that we can afford to escort every single convoy."

"So it was all an act!?"

"It wasn't actually you I was hoping to deceive, but this idiot. They were just supposed to be a deterrent. But in the end you believed it, and he didn't."

It wasn't hard to imagine how the whole thing must have gone.

Daemon sensed that the enemy would try to attack his supply lines, but he had no idea when or where that might happen. All he understood was that the enemy would certainly attack at night and in an isolated place, probably making use of the help of the centaurs and their developed senses to be able to move and act even in low light conditions.

"That messenger did not stumble upon the village by mistake." Athreia understood "You sent him on purpose."

"Sorry for the farce. Centuries of slavery have now killed the animal senses of the slaves, and as I have already said we did not have enough men to patrol this entire region. I needed someone who could help me track down the enemy without fail."

Unfortunately Philippe had also come to the same conclusions; and unlike Athreia, his reaction was much more violent.

"It's all your fault, you damned monster!"

Even though his affinity with magic was not very great, the rage with which he generated the spell was such that it produced not one, but an entire barrage of burning spikes.

"Sister!"

Athreia just had time to see a shadow interpose between her and that deadly blast, and a moment later Medea was on the ground at her feet in a pool of blood, pierced in several places.

"Medea!"

It was so sudden that no one, not even Daemon, had time to comprehend what had happened.

But unfortunately for Philippe Athreia reacted for first; as if her body moved on its own and screaming in anger, she picked up the arrow that her sister had just pointed at her, throwing it with the strength of her arm alone at the General and literally piercing him right through the face.

Only at that point did all the others present also regain self-control, and before being massacred by those who until a moment before had been their allies, Eirinn's knights immediately surrendered.

"Medea! Medea, answer me! Kassia please, do something!"

However it was already clearly too late, and Athreia, destroyed by her pain, found herself sobbingly embracing the lifeless body of her sister.

She had never cried in her life, not even over the death of her parents. Right for this reason, it was even more painful for Kassia and the others to see her like this.

"Was this also part of your big plan?" she asked in a small voice

"Do you really think I wanted something like that? I actually hoped that you could convince your companions of the goodness of my actions. But the price to pay was clearly too high."

When the centaur stood up Scalia instinctively tried to place herself between her and Daemon; he not only stopped her, but also took a few steps forward and moved in front of Athreia, who turned towards him holding Medea's sword.

"And what about the things you showed me? What was it? A fine play? A deception?"

"You lived among them. You worked, ate and talked with them. Did it seem to you like they were acting?"

The bigger problem though was what Athreia had just done. No matter why or under what circumstances, she had failed in her duties and role, completing her descent into infamy the moment she turned her weapon against the one she was supposed to serve.

"This is not the solution." Daemon said, noticing the way the young woman stared at the sword

"I killed my lord. Betrayed the Emperor's trust. Disappointed my companions. Moreover, I killed my sister. How do you expect me to continue living?"

"It wasn't your fault Athreia! The damned guy got what he deserved!"

"You stay out of it, Kassia!"

"Your friend is right. You only did what you thought was right. There is no dishonor in turning your back on someone who has proven unworthy of your loyalty. But to think that one can escape his torment with death would be an even more vile behavior. You said it yourself, after all. There may be another way."

Therefore, something happened that no one ever expected to see; Athreia Ypsilanti, the proud and fearless commander of the Vanlian Furies, kneeling before someone.

"My honor is tainted. My soul is blackened with shame. And my sister's blood will forever stain my hands. Only death can repay all these debts. And if Gaia has decided that I should chase her while pursuing an ideal greater than those that have guided my actions up to now, then I submit to her will."

With one swift movement, she cut the palm of her hand, coloring the grass at her feet red.

"From this moment my blood, my soul, my body belong to you. I will follow your ideal and your aspirations until I die. Your purpose is my purpose. Your destiny is my destiny." then she pointed the blade at Daemon, glaring at him menacingly. "But if one day you should betray the ideals in the name of which I have chosen to soil my soul, then I will repay blood with blood."

Daemon watched her for a moment, while no one around them could say a word in amazement, then he lightly grabbed the blade of the sword, staining it with his blood.

"I accept your oath, and I promise to honor it as long as I live. And this goes for all of you! I swear here to never hesitate, and to fight without respite, without breath and without rest until the ideals we have created embrace the entire world. So that innocent blood should never be shed again, and everyone can be equal and free!"

"For the Revolution!" they all shouted back.