Ruinous Return

B2 – Chapter 2

Lyn turned and walked to the gate, placing her palm on the inscription and pouring mana into the etched words. The metal structure lifted, and she walked under. She repeated the process on the other side to close it.

The Duskari squad commander atop the wall clambered down a ladder and bowed, "My Lady, your orders?"

Lyn looked to the various soldiers, marines, and cavalry. If they were smart, they would not just sit around here. Leave a small contingent to keep watch on the fort, with a few riders to convey information back to the duchy to provide faster feedback. "Give me a moment." She swapped Cataclysm to its bow form, pulled an arrow from the storage choker's pocket dimension, and aimed it up in an arc over the wall – aiming for the sky. She let loose, counted until it reached its arc, and then muttered the verses to swap places with the object.

She was suddenly in the sky, and her cloak activated, slowing her descent and allowing her to direct the slow, gentle glide. Angling back to the fort she had just left; she used her enhanced vision to observe the movements of that armed force. They're going to cross the river.

She tucked in the cloak and fell rapidly before deploying it as she smoothly landed. "Ram riders," she called out in the Sloren language. "Head out to the pastureland and recall the herders to the Valley walls." She swapped to Arinol, "Marines, stand down." Last, she looked at the Newen, and switched to Khrelardian – which most of them spoke due to their interactions with Fort Watch. "Keep the walls manned."

"Forgive me, my Lady, but why not chase down those survivors?"

Lyn turned to the Newen who asked, "I want some survivors to spread word of my power. If I destroyed them all…who would spread word of my glory? The terror I inflicted to those who threatened my people?"

The various groups nodded and said some version of affirmative to her orders in their varying languages before splitting off to their tasks. She pulled another arrow and chained together two more teleport-to-arrow spells to arrive back at Lynhold. People all around bowed in reverence before resuming their duties. At the entrance to the citadel were two full squadrons. She flagged down the leader of one of the groups. "Your raven, please." The man nodded and let out a sharp whistle. A raven flapped down from where it was perching on one of the nearby buildings.

"Yes?" it cawed at the squad leader, who gestured to Lyn in response.

"I need you to deliver a message to Steward Mol, and Marshal Remora."

"Okay, what?" The raven had nowhere near the level of intelligence as Whisperwing did, but it would recall her words perfectly and only deliver them to the intended audience.

"Tell both that we have Valagonian forces entering Trisk's territory, and I have pulled back the herders to the Valley. Tell Steward Mol that he can direct them to the reserve pastures on the North-Eastern side of the Valley interior and tell Marshal Remora to send a few squadrons of Duskari troops to reinforce the fort at The Rill."

The bird nodded and took off, flapping fast as it went over Lynhold and to the South. The squadron leader nodded, "Anything else, My Lady?"

Lyn shook her head. "If anyone needs me, I'll be visiting some of our new guests." She turned and walked towards the military 'wedge' of Lynhold, making a beeline for the Viking-esque longhouse. As she approached the front door, a feeling of unease washed over her. Ben's the only one that didn't want to participate in the council. She wasn't angry at him for making that decision, but it spoke some volume about his level of trust toward her. I have to build goodwill with him. Even if he doesn't fight, just having his public support will be hugely impactful in vassalizing others. She took a deep breath and pushed open the wide door.

"Make sure that you keep your fists up at eye level," Ben instructed one of his newer students that made the journey from Trisk to Lynhold. The young woman did as she was instructed, and Ben squared off with him, holding up a strike pad; reeds that had been bound with layers of cloth. "Jab!" The trainee did so.

Ben continued to give simple instructions as he looked around the room. Some of his most veteran students had elected to depart rather than travel to Lynhold; going to make their fortunes as bodyguards or brawlers. He bore no ill will toward them, having been somewhat reticent himself to journey here.

But…after meeting Lyn, things were much different. It – she, looked nothing like the old Lyn. But the way she spoke was just as familiar as the voice he hadn't heard in ten years. He had no doubts anymore that this was in fact their old ally. Brad's trust in her, and Thomas' confidence when talking with her was convincing enough.

One thought had bothered him since their meeting the day before, and he had laid awake last night, staring at the ceiling of their new house. I know what happens when I die. I'm trapped in my core…until Lyn or someone else with a stronger core than the Guardian one comes along. The thought was both reassuring and terrifying at the same time. Whether he liked it or not, Lyn would probably be the person to let him 'move on' to the afterlife.

But there wasn't an afterlife. Just going back to Earth, or back here to Ghomar. For the first time in many years, Ben had cried. He had always been religious, believing in Heaven, and both he and Trisha would be with each other when they both had passed on. Now he knew, and had been confirmed by Thomas, that was not an option.

As the jabs kept coming at the pad he was holding, an idea crossed his head. A crazy idea that he was not nearly well-learned enough in Elenthir or mana cores in general to know. Could Thomas…bind our cores? A way to make sure we are with each other when it's all over? He'd have to ask Thomas when he could.

A commotion at the door caught his attention, and he signaled for the trainee to stop. The Foskor woman who was punching heaving deep breaths as she also looked where everyone was looking. Lyn was standing in the doorway. But…it wasn't quite the same Lyn as yesterday. This one had draconic features laced about her form. Claws instead of hands, the same for the feet, black scales, and a prominent pair of horns that looked…regal.

"Don't mind me, just here to talk with Ben," she said in Triskol with a wave. The various trainees still tracked her with their eyes, not making a move as for most of them this was their first encounter with the Destroyer.

Ben put the pad down and walked over to Lyn. He towered over her petite frame, and chuckled, speaking in Triskol. "What brings you by?"

Lyn raised an eyebrow and muttered some spell as her draconic features receded, as did the full plate she was wearing until it covered her thighs, groin and torso. She crossed her arms and raised a brow, "When was the last time you had a good boxing match?"

Ben let out a hearty laugh, and this indicator of joviality was enough to convince his trainees to go back to their own sparring practice. "Really? With that tiny body?" Ben teased.

"We can do it with internal spells if you like," she replied.

Ben narrowed his gaze. This is a chance, he thought. I can test her actual strength versus her internal spell enhanced version. He nodded, "No spells for the first few rounds."

Lyn grinned and looked around, eyes landing on the Foskor that Ben had been training. "Can you ref?"

The Foskor looked at Ben with curiosity, "No," she replied in a deep tenor.

Ben chuckled and glanced out over the trainees, "Jeremy! Get up here!"

A brawny Raptin came over. One of the bird-folk who primarily lived in the large, forest region of Raptol within the borders of Trisk. "You wanted me?"

Ben nodded, "Ref a match," he gestured to Lyn to follow, and the trio went to the far end of the longhouse, where a boxing ring was set up. Gloves hung from the posts on the corners – all various sizes – and Ben clambered into the ring with Lyn right behind. He grabbed a pair of gloves, slipped them on, and tightened the laces with his teeth before having Jeremy finish tying them on.

The gloves had cost a small fortune to make, but they were durable and sturdy. Not the same quality as what he had back on Earth, since the technology just wasn't at that level of machined precision, but they were serviceable. As Lyn put on a pair and had them tightened down, Ben hopped on the balls of his feet, throwing a few practice jabs in the air. A brief flash caught his attention and he stared at Lyn, "Did you use a spell?"

She shook her head, "Must be an external indicator of the Spellblade core." She looked over at him, "I also freed Nami. Her core gives me mastery of any weapon I pick up. I guess boxing gloves count as a weapon."

Ben nodded and put in a mouthguard made of reeds sewn together and offered one to Lyn. She put it in, and they both squared up.

Jeremy got into the ring and stood between them, getting the ready nod, before shouting. "Begin!"

Ben danced forward as light as a feather throwing a combination of jabs and haymakers that would put champions to the test. Lyn focused on defense, intercepting his blows with the backside of her gloves. A few hits got through, and Ben felt the familiar reverb of body enhanced skin as he failed to deal any real damage. He backed off and took out the mouthpiece, "Mana charging fine with you?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Lyn nodded and – without speaking – charged her gloves with glowing, neon-blue mana. He could see the sweat beading on her brow.

Interesting, Ben thought. She's…struggling to hold back. He needed to slowly amp up his evaluation of the new Lyn. Just a simple mana charge spell. "Lathron en ethuil / dagor en garthûr / thangor lin." He felt the sturdy mana core within him buck slightly as a stream of energy flowed down his mana channels and into the gloves. They glowed a bright, vibrant brown. He put in the mouth guard and gestured for her to approach.

Lyn cautiously advanced, throwing light jabs to prod his defenses. Ben intentionally let a few get glancing hits, testing to see if she was inexperienced enough in fighting to go for the opening. She didn't, and instead backed away taking up the defense.

Ben pulled the mouth guard out, "Internal spell time?" she nodded, reached up to remove her mouthpiece, and spouted off an Elenthir verse that he could barely follow. She was speaking as fast as one of the fastest rappers back on Earth, and the effects of the internal spell were incredibly noticeable. Her muscle mass increased to rival that of Ben's own – and he was built like a brick shithouse.

I might not have some fancy spell like her, but internal spells can't really improve me anymore. That was one benefit of training to be at peak physicality – internal spells for combat, like the one he used to increase reaction time, speed, and strength were only able to take someone to the limit of their physique. It meant that he would not have to waste mana on such spells during combat, as he was in peak physical condition.

They both put in their mouth guards, and Ben unleashed an offensive onslaught. Jab, hook, uppercut, block, counter-jab; every move he made was calculated to take advantage of Lyn's weaknesses as a boxer. Despite not having boxed her in fourteen years, he was well-practiced enough to read her like a book after only a few moments of sparring with her. Her left side is weaker, and she's struggling to keep up with counters.

Where his blows impacted her, he saw the body-enhanced skin flare up as the mana charged gloves bypassed it. He could hear grunts from her as he made impact, and due to the internal spell she had used, hitting her felt like hitting a slab of iron. She got a few blows of her own in, throwing a jab that he couldn't duck that hit him squarely in the ear. Fuck, that was a good one.

He felt the joy of being in the here and now, the adrenaline of facing off against someone who held a chance to harm him in the ring. None of his trainees could beat him, and only one had landed blows on him in sparring. She's good, he thought, as he continued to exchange blows and blocks. Technical-skill wise, she's on my level. But experience-wise…he stepped into her weaker left side and used his larger mass to push her around the ring until she was trapped in a corner, gloves up next to her ears as she tucked in to protect her torso. He didn't let up the assault. Come on, Destroyer. Show me what you got.

As if she read his thoughts, she exploded forward with a jab into his gut. He took the blow and slammed a haymaker into her temple, sending her flying sideways and into the ropes. She turned with the blow and stood up, reeling, as Ben dashed in to deliver a finishing blow.

But then…something he did not expect. She dropped her defenses entirely, and her muscle mass decreased in all except her right arm. He missed the now-smaller target, and the still-enhanced and spell-augmented arm slammed him in the chin. Oh, good bait, he thought as he went reeling back. He held up his gloves and waved them in surrender. Lyn paused her movement and spat out the mouthpiece, drawing in deep breaths. She was bruised all over and let out a small laugh. "Fucking ouch, Ben."

Ben took out his own mouthpiece and pulled the laces on the glove clear with his teeth. "Hey, you wanted to spar. Good show."

Lyn looked at Jeremy, who had watched the fight with rapt attention. "Mind helping me?" she asked as she held the gloves out to him. He shrugged, hopped out of the ring, and went to go and train with some of the newer students. "Oh, rude," Lyn said after him as she set to the ties with her teeth.

Ben walked forward, "I'll help," he said as he unlaced her gloves. "So, did you find out what you wanted?"

Lyn shook her head, "I wasn't here to find out anything. Just talk. Catch up as friends since it's been so long."

"Oh? Really…I thought you'd be here for something."

"Nope," Lyn said with a grin, "Just missed you, was all. You, Trisha, Thomas…everyone except James, Cecily, and Volio."

"Well, let's talk. My place, you can meet the kids also." He grinned, "We even named a daughter after you."

Lyn's mouth went agape, "No, you didn't."

He let his laugh be the only response as he walked out of the longhouse with her a step behind.

Trisha busied herself in their new house. It was a three-story building with a basement, and room for expansion, adding more floors up top if necessary. It was…almost perfect. Looking around at the decorations and furniture, she tried to figure out what it was. Absentmindedly, she rocked baby Ginavieve's crib on the ground floor. What am I missing? She racked her brain, going through every crate in her mind. Then it hit her, and she sighed. I marked that box for the hospital. She cursed under her breath. She would have to get it tomorrow.

The sound of footsteps from upstairs was followed by a very loud scream. Not a scream of fear or pain, the scream of children playing some type of game. "Gil!" she shouted up the stairs in Shereldian. "Eli! If you two are going to play rough, go outside!"

The two boys came running down the stairs holding wooden swords. Eli looked at her and groaned, "But mooom! It's hot outside!" Lyndra came rushing down the stairs a few seconds later, wearing a sackcloth with a dragon's head crudely painted on it.

Well…the basement is empty still. She pointed down the stairs to the underground, "It'll be cooler and quieter down there."

Eli dashed off, followed closely by Gil. Lyndra followed, "I wanna be a hero!" she shouted after the boys.

"One more time!" Eli said. "Gil gets to be the Paragon; I'm going to be the Guardian!" The trio dashed down into the basement, and she closed the door gently behind them. Their sounds of make believe were dulled tremendously.

Trisha turned back to dealing with the baby. When the orphaned Gil arrived almost a week prior, She and her husband had offered to take him in. The reasoning was simple – they were the only other Humans around with a family unit. Sure, the boy could have been brought up by the community at large, but Trisha always wanted kids – the more the merrier. Thankfully, Eli, Lyndra, and Lawry all spoke the three kingdom's languages, so integrating another boy into the group was easy enough.

She heard a commotion from outside. She recognized Ben's loud, boisterous laugh with ease. The lighter, female giggle was new though. Going to the window, she saw a draconic-themed Lyn walking with Ben through the small front garden. She overheard their conversation as Ben reached down and lifted Lawry up, holding him as Lyn spoke something softly. Trisha took a deep breath before opening the front door.

Ben and Lyn both looked over to her, and a large raven flapped down and landed on one of Lyn's horns. It said something to her in Arinol, and she replied, "Oh, Triskol. That's the one they're most comfortable with."

The raven nodded and looked over to Trisha, waving a wing, "Oh my gosh! Hi! I'm Whisperwing! It's this little one yours?!" The voice that came out was that of a preppy girl, the type of mean-girl voice that could grind against a person's ears if they listened to it for too long.

Trisha nodded and waved gently, "Talking birds," she muttered to herself. "Lyn, welcome to our house. Thank you for providing it."

Lyn pushed Ben playfully in front of her with a chuckle, "Go, hug your wife!" She looked up at the raven, and the bird hopped down onto the ground.

Ben put Lawry on the ground, and he ran over to Whisperwing. To Trisha's surprise, the normally quiet and shy son began to converse with the raven. "Where's the other kids?" Ben asked her as he leaned in for a kiss.

She gave him one, and then looked past him to Lyn, who was looking down at Lawry and Whisperwing with glee. "Hon," she whispered. "I don't know if it's the right time-"

Ben shook his head, returning the whisper. "It's her. I'm even more sure than I was at the meeting." He pointed to his jaw, and she could barely make out a bruise starting to swell, "We had a good round. And you know me – the best way to know someone is to fight them."

Trisha pushed him playfully and smiled, "Lyn!" she said loudly, "Come on in."

The wasteland between Fort Watch was even more desolate and parched than prior years. Fucking hot summer, Lionel thought as he took a sip from his canteen. At least the well is inside the walls. He looked back to the inside of the Fort. His men were busy catching rats for supper. Fuck. Soon we'll have to eat the horses.

Kory had left his Killers to their own devices and had not been seen for a month. That was…highly unusual. The man was a tough bastard and almost impossible to kill. The siege that arrived the third week since his absence necessitated a leader step up, and Lionel took on the role being one of the more experienced tacticians.

"Captain Lionel!" a voice shouted from the Western wall in Khrelardian. "They sent a messenger again."

"Usual response," he hollered back. They would shoot an arrow at the messenger's feet. All the mercenaries knew that surrendering to Valagonia's forces meant they would be put to work in some fashion. Their freedom taken. And not every merc in the group was Human…those men and women would be killed. "Fucking hot summer," he muttered. Scanning the environment, his eyes came to rest on the enormous fortification on the horizon. The Dragon's Maw, as his Newen contact had told him.

A black dot began to approach. "Spyglass!" Lionel yelled out. A man came running around the wall and handed it to him. Raising it to his eye, Lionel could make out the type of bird. A raven. Weird, they don't normally come down from the mountains. He could also make out a small piece of parchment tied to one of its legs. A message?

He waited as the bird came closer, and it alighted on the wall nearby before looking at him and croaking out in Khrelardian, "Message for mercenaries."

Lionel and the man who brought him the spyglass jumped when it talked. "The fuck?!" the merc shouted.

"Message for mercenaries," The raven repeated. Using its beak, it removed the twine and then using a taloned foot unfurled the message before reading aloud. "Lyn Rivers, the Destroyer, offers Kory's Killers a sum of one thousand Gold Eagles to join her in the Valley of the Volcano. Additional salary is negotiable. If you wish rescue, be ready tomorrow, as the Destroyer, herself, will come to provide safe passage. The fort will be leveled, regardless."

Leveling the fort? How the fuck would this Destroyer do that? He shook his head, what are you thinking? A fucking 2-mile wall appeared overnight. Leveling a fort has to be easier than raising one. He pondered the bird for a moment before turning around, putting his back to the crenellation, and crossing his arms.

"One thousand Gold Eagles, and we're getting rescued?" the other merc said in disbelief.

"Yes," the raven replied. It tapped the paper with its talon. "You keep. I fly back." It took off and flew North.

"What are you thinking, Captain?"

Lionel frowned, "It could be a trap. But…what options do we really have? We're surrounded by Valagonia; last count was, what, three thousand?"

"Yes sir. Siege weapons began arriving this morning. Just a battering ram for now, but they're assembling a siege tower. It'll be done on the morrow."

"Yeah, we can't fight out of that. We're only five-hundred, and most of us aren't versed in army warfare." He stroked his short, ruddy beard. "We'll take the deal for now, because it's just joining her in the Valley of the Volcano. It says nothing about fighting for her, just being there with her." He smiled and grabbed the slip of paper, turning to his compatriot. "Tell everyone – we're leaving tomorrow. Pack up anything of value. Strip the place clean. Even the fucking brass in the tavern from the lantern-hooks."