"I still can't believe what happened," Scalia said, sitting down in her chair.

"I agree." said Richard. "When I saw that huge line coming at us, I thought for a moment that our time had come."

"Now I understand why you ordered us not to fire until the last." Jack said.

"There was no point in wasting ammo," Daemon said, sipping his coffee. "Besides, shooting would only help the Imperials aim better. They were common soldiers on loan to the artillery, not a real threat."

"Fortunately, we trained ours well," Oldrick said. "Waiting for the Imperials to get to the wall was a very clever move. Although I have to say, our enemies were very brave. Many others would have fled after the first two or three volleys. I almost feel sorry that so many had to die."

"Don't be too sad," Natuli replied. "They didn't suffer any serious losses after all. If you had let me attack with my hunters, then we would have destroyed them."

"I really don't understand why you insisted on not pursuing them," Jack said again. "We could have settled the matter once and for all."

"It was too risky. They still had reserves protecting the retreat, and if we tried to climb over the wall, they could turn our strategy against us. Besides, we didn't need to go that far."

Scalia snorted, "Forgive me, but I just don't understand you. We're fighting two nations. The Union Army is marching unchallenged through our land. We should have ended the matter with the Imperial Army when we could and returned to Ende right away."

"I have a plan in my head, have you forgotten?"

"I know, and I trust you. But no matter how hard I try, I don't think I can figure it out."

"In due time, everything will be clear to you. Suffice it to say, however, that its success also depended on obtaining this victory with minimal losses, both for us and for them. In any case, until we have news from Athreia, it is useless to talk about it."

For someone whose fate still teetered on the brink of ruin, Daemon seemed to his companions to be the embodiment of calm, drinking coffee and checking maps as if it were any other day, while Scalia and the others jumped every time they heard a horse pass by the tent.

And when the guard announced the arrival of a messenger, the hearts of some of those present stopped for a moment.

"A message from General Ypsilanti, sir!"

"And the message is?"

The young centaur stood at attention, trembling, then shouted, "L... la victoire est a nou!"

Hearing this, Daemon's eyes lit up like a cat's, and a smug smile spread across his lips.

"Prepare a white flag!"



The report of the battle casualties read like a guest list for a court ball.

It's all the fault of the bad habit of young officers to expose themselves to danger, to inspire their men or to show off and thus hope to advance their careers quickly.

But marching against a conventional army and dodging at most a few arrows - not to mention the unwritten rule not to aim at officers - was a far cry from dealing with Free State soldiers and their damned firearms.

"Losses among the Centurions of the Sixth Legion, First Cohort. Attilius Fibulus Batiatus: light wounds. Fabius Sympio Agricola and Tertius Lucius Macenus: serious wounds. Sergius Oriago Venesius: deceased. The rest missing, possibly dead. Losses among the Prefects of the Sixth Legion. Maclodius Lucianus Samnius: deceased. Lucinius Pontus Picenus: serious wounds. The rest missing, possibly dead. Losses among-»

"Enough," Aria said in a small voice, unable to take it any longer

"We must attack again tomorrow!"

"Are you crazy? We attacked on the flanks, now in the center, and both times they pushed us back."

"He's right. Attacking again in these conditions would only increase the body count."

"So what do you want us to do? Should we just stand here and watch as those Union dogs march into our lands?"

Aria let the legates slaughter each other without saying a word; for the first time, even Basil seemed to have lost all his confidence, and remained sitting on his chair with his head buried in his hands.

For the first time, Aria felt she was seriously losing control of the situation. First in Bedburg, then in Faria, and even before that disaster, despite the worries that troubled her soul she had always tried to remain in control of her emotions, so as not to let what she felt show to the eyes of those around her.

But even for her there was a limit beyond which nervousness, a sense of impotence and frustration took over.

She had never been particularly religious, and she a person's destiny was entirely in its hands; and despite this she was seriously starting to wonder if Gaia had cursed her.

"It's all my fault."

"You have nothing to complain about, Consul." Basil said unexpectedly. "Unlike me. If I hadn't acted impulsively both in Bedburg and here, we wouldn't have gotten to this point."

"That's also Daemon's strength. He sees our weaknesses and uses them against us. He's manipulated me as much as he did with you."

"Trust me, Consul. Belion himself is whispering in that damned man's ear. The ideas he has, the things he says, and the things he creates... they don't even seem to be of this world."

The General looked down, feeling fear for the first time in his life: "What if it's... him?"

"Who are you talking about?" Aria asked with the tone of someone who doesn't want to hear the answer

"The Dark Lord..."

It was as if Basil had said aloud what everyone in that tent was thinking; for as he spoke the Legates, the Tribunes, and even the servants changed expressions, remaining speechless and looking at each other.

"Such statements are an insult to your intelligence, General."

Basil leapt to his feet violently, addressing Aria as he had never done before: "You can't deny that there's something terribly wrong with that boy! The Circle says that the Dark Lord was defeated and killed at the end of the Holy Wars, but the truth is that no one really knows what happened to him! He simply disappeared into thin air, just when the humans were about to strike back. And nothing exists of him, no portraits or descriptions. Who's to say that it can't be so?"

A servant brought the General a cup of water, but he threw it away and replaced it with a full cup of wine. Aria waited for his favorite tonic to calm him down, then replied, "Now listen carefully. I've never told anyone, but I've actually met Daemon before. And even though he was just a child back then, I knew right away that he was someone out of the ordinary. I agree with you when you say that his way of acting, thinking, and reasoning does not seem to belong to this world, but I would not want anyone here to get any strange ideas. We are not dealing with a superior being, a demigod, and certainly not a new Dark Lord. Daemon Haselworth is a man. A man like no other, no doubt, but a man nonetheless."

Aria looked at the map of Western Erthea. "The Dark Lord was making a desert behind him. Daemon is trying to build something with his actions. I think you should at least recognize that."

It was as if Aria was also addressing those words to herself, almost as if she wanted to be the first to remember that after all, she was really fighting against a simple man, however special he was.

Meanwhile, night had fallen on Arendt, and the camp guards scanned the plain with their eyes permanently turned towards the lights of the enemy camp.

Suddenly a torch appeared in the darkness, and the soldiers saw a small group of enemies slowly approaching the palisades, waving a white flag.

"We care no weapons! We have a message for your commander!"

"Go call the Consul."

Respect for the pickets who came to parley was one of the few things that even a rebel army was allowed, so Aria, once informed of the situation, reached the main gate of the camp with Basil and a couple of soldiers to receive the new arrivals.

"A message for you from Commander Haselworth," the embassy chief said, handing over a sealed document.

It was a request for a parley, a face-to-face meeting between commanders to discuss the situation, although the document gave no indication of what Daemon actually had in mind; no weapons, just a small escort of five soldiers and a drummer each, plus two trusted officers.

"We need an immediate response."

"Tell your commander that I accept."

Basilio tried to protest, but Aria waved him off.

"To ensure a truce until tomorrow, however, I request a hostage exchange."

"The Commander had foreseen this request. My companions will all remain here with you. If you want, you can send just one person."

But in the name of respect between gentlemen, Aria decided to even the score, once again without consulting Basili at all, and offered three of his legionaries in exchange for as many rebels; then, after the meeting, the two sides returned each to their own camp.



Once again it was a very long night, which Aria spent almost sleepless, lost in a sea of thoughts.

For a moment she felt like a child again, when she went to bed after failing a test or making her teachers angry, knowing full well that when the sun rose it would be time to deal with her father too.

Moreover, the thought of seeing Daemon face to face again after so many years made her incredibly nervous; she had already thought about what she would do if she met him, and now the thought that it was about to actually happen was making her heart beat wildly.

She managed to fall asleep just before the morning signal, and knowing how much appearances mattered, she had to cover herself in makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes and wrinkles before going to breakfast.

During the night a small team of Free State engineers had set up a small hut in record time in the centre of no man's land, even finding time to erect a quartet of flagpoles at the corners of the building, from which flew the flags of Eirinn, Saedonia, the Free State and, as was customary at military truces, the Circle.

At nine o'clock, preceded by drum rolls, the two delegations left their respective camps at the same time, meeting right next to the entrance door of the hut.

On one side Daemon, Jack and Oldrick; on the other Aria, Basil and Glabro Custenio, Legate of the Sixth Legion.

"Commander." Daemon said, perfectly executing the official greeting of the Imperial court

"Commander." Aria replied with a simple nod.

There was a sort of brief and silent duel of glances between the two, from which neither of them escaped.

"This meeting is for me and Her Excellency Lady Montgomery only. You gentlemen can talk amongst yourselves outside if you wish."

"No kidding, there's no way I'm leaving my Commander alone in there with you!"

"Basil, please. We are under the protection of the Circle. No one can defile Gaia's banner with deceit, and Commander Haselworth knows it well."

Despite Aria's order, Basilio still insisted on opening the doors and checking the inside of the hut; then, once he was sure that inside there was nothing but a map of the region and a humble table with an inkwell, some papers and some jugs full of coffee and wine, he gave up.

"At the slightest hint of suspicion, we'll storm in." the beefy officer insisted, however.

At that point, having handed over their ceremonial weapons, the two commanders locked themselves in.

"So?" Aria asked after a long silence. "Is this what you saw in your future?"

"More or less. I knew I was meant to do something important, but maybe this was more than I could have imagined. What about you? Did you imagine that day it would end like this?"

"You mean, the two of us on a battlefield? Yes. Although I had always hoped we would be fighting on the same side."

Aria looked at the map, which showed the various breakthrough directions of both the Imperial and Union armies; Eirinn and the Free State were represented almost as one nation, with only a thin dotted line separating them.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I had no choice. I didn't want it to come to this. Your brother forced me to do it."

"And before that? Don't you see that you risk setting the entire world on fire? I don't think there is a single ruler in Erthea who doesn't stay awake at night thinking that the ideals of the Revolution might reach his subjects."

"The Revolution never intended to overthrow governments or destroy royal families. It only claims the right of every sentient being in this world to be the master of his own destiny. If those who govern a nation recognize this right for their subjects, there is no need for them to disappear."

"It would mean the end of absolute power. And I have yet to meet a king, prince, or duke who would willingly give up such power."

"Then they will die, slaughtered by the very subjects they think they can control. A new world is being born, Aria. They can accept it and survive, or refuse to acknowledge it and disappear along with the old one. And that goes for you, too."

Aria wrapped her arms around her chest, an instinctive gesture she had made since she was a child when she wanted to chase away fear.

"For now, the only one who will disappear is you. If not by our hand, then by Medici's. The Revolution has not yet spread, and anyone who has tried to start it outside of here has been silenced. This proves that it's not strong enough to survive on its own yet. If you die, it will all be over."

"Perhaps. But think about it. At this rate, there will only be one winner when the music stops, and it won't be you. The Empire has already lost the Flor War. I don't need to tell you what will happen if they lose to the Union, too."

A new, long silence followed.

"So, what do you want? Why did you ask for this meeting?"

"Take it easy. We'll have a chance to talk about it once the third guest arrives."



The Emperor looked up at the row of dignitaries lined up to the right of the throne for the morning audience.

"Where's my son?"

"Prince Julius has not yet woken up, Your Highness," replied the old butler Robert

Archbishop Herman and Senator Marcellus laughed softly; what else could one expect from such a layabout who spent his days riding, and his nights indulging in the most unbridled pleasures in the best places in the capital?

Ademar had secretly hoped that the transition from noble member of the royal family to heir to the throne would make his only son reconsider the way he lived his life; but in the end, becoming a prince had only widened the scope of his vices and the ways to indulge them.

Food, women, money, horses; he lacked for nothing.

It had already happened over the centuries that other Emperors decided to adopt an heir to solve the problem of an offspring unfit to inherit the throne, but in Ademar's case this was not a viable option; the cadet branch to which he belonged had only held the crown for a generation, so it was vital for him to pass the command to someone who was his blood in every way.

The moment he resigned himself to the fact that Julius would never change, he tried to bring other children into the world, until he realized that Gaia had decided to bring the shame of sterility onto him prematurely.

What infuriated him most was the thought that his beloved wife had been called to the halls of Belion in the very act of giving birth to a such failure of a son.

Knowing that there was no point in waiting for his arrival, the Emperor began the meeting, which as usual started with news from the front.

"The last messenger reported that General Montgomery's troops have penetrated deep into Eirinn's territory," said Marcellus. "At this rate, the rebels will soon be completely crushed. With this and the defeat of the Barons, His Majesty's power will be completely re-established throughout the Empire."

"I agree," said General Theodore, commander of the northern legions. "That damned heretic wasn't so invincible after all."

Everyone at court knew that Theodore had tried hard to get himself assigned command of the expedition to defeat the Free State, and that being passed over for a girl half his age didn't make him happy.

Nonetheless, he was not so arrogant and self-important as to fail to recognize Aria's talent and aptitude for command, even though he found the Emperor's benevolence towards what was still a foreigner inappropriate and dangerous.

"Do not be so quick to claim victory. The war is far from over, and Daemon Haselworth has already proven his ability to turn even the most desperate situations around."

"I understand your caution, Your Majesty. However, I respectfully believe it is time to decide what to do once we regain control of Western Eirinn."

"I agree with Senator Marcellus," Theodore said again. "The slaves who rebelled will all be killed, of course, but there is the problem of the free citizens who have voluntarily chosen to support the rebels. I propose to use the same method with them that we used with Severus. The nobles to the gallows, and the plebeians enslaved."

"Ideas do not disappear simply by cutting off the head of those who invented them," intervened Marquis Celleno, an authoritative and esteemed voice of the Western nobility. "On the contrary, it only serves to create martyrs. Revolts are spreading relentlessly throughout the ghettos of the Empire, no matter how violently they are repressed."

"If you kill the snake's head, the rest of the body will die too sooner or later." Marcellus cut him short

"Besides, if you slaughter a hundred thousand slaves and enslave the rest, who will take care of getting the province back on its feet?"

"His Majesty still has the famous problem of the exiles from the Flor War," said the Archbishop. "Many of them are still waiting for the lands you promised them. You could move them all down there."

"You have obviously never been to the outskirts of the Empire, Your Eminence. Those lands were inhospitable before, who would want to move there after a war that will surely leave them in ruins?"

The Emperor raised his arm, causing the room to fall silent: "All this talk is just empty words, until we have re-established our dominion over those lands. But Marquis Celleno is right; ideas, once created, cannot be erased. Regardless of what happens to the Free State, what Daemon Haselworth brought to this world will not simply disappear with his death. Like it or not, we are all part of a new world; we can adapt or die."

"Funny. That's exactly what he said."

That mischievous and seductive voice suddenly echoed throughout the room, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere.

All the windows opened violently under the pressure of a sudden storm, forming a small tornado next to the throne from which a young and seductive lamia dressed as a witch appeared.

"Greetings, gentlemen. I hope I haven't interrupted anything important."

Ademar instinctively tried to stand, only to realize almost immediately that he couldn't, as if an invisible force was holding him pinned to the throne.

"What's a monster doing in this place?" Marcellus shouted. "Guards! Guards!"

As the soldiers entered the room, the lamia snapped her fingers, and in the blink of an eye she and the Emperor were enveloped in a dome of light that shattered the javelins as they touched it.

"My apologies, Your Highness. Your presence is required elsewhere."

"Archbishop, you are the sorcerer here! Do something!"

"What do you expect I do? That's a magical barrier of the highest order. Not even the Holy Father could break it down."

"Do not fear. I will bring your beloved Emperor back in no time. In one piece if possible." and with that the barrier disappeared, taking everything inside away with it.