Renit shouts my name but I'm too far gone. The only evidence I have of him behind me is his lightning continuing to strike the enemy soldiers that get too close to me as I run for Silas. The crown prince, the future king, strikes with his sword but is shoved back by a firm kick to the stomach. He stumbles, falling on his ass, but is up again in a second.

He wants a different fight. Silas wants his father to know that he can survive the test of a battle and actually be there to fight it in the first place. Not doing this for himself is the first step in making himself a leader of a kingdom. Doing this for the people suffering back home and the entire struggle of the land, Silas is standing taller than us all.

Soldiers surround him, attempting to swallow him whole, but I blast them back with my power. I attempt to create a wave of Citlali's magnitude but it's not nearly as tall or thick. Soldiers are shoved back and crash underneath the force of that stone wave, but most rise again to face me.

"Why aren't they using their powers?" Silas shouts, taking one step back. I shield him with my body, following that step with him.

"I don't know," I respond. "It's possible he believed Saebia wouldn't have any forces to combat his. These might be the mortal witches of his legion."

I don't want to ask him why he's not using the available power of blood manipulation. It occurs to me that maybe, just maybe, Silas wants to kill these soldiers the honorable way. He inherited that power when his father had control, therefore, it is tainted with what he was forced to do during those weeks. What he turned into.

Silas doesn't want to use any powers for they're all associated with his father. A sword and a shield is one weapon his father never considered using. To distance himself from his father, Silas wishes to be that opposite. Now is not the time to make such a stand, but I am only here to protect the future king of Esaria.

Already, we've thinned out a considerable number of the king's men. But they're still fighting. Specifically with weapons, few with immortal powers. They're aiming for us, for the king, for Citlali and Binx fighting together and attacking the eastern flank. What a shame, the king of Esaria didn't show up to his own battle. All the more reason to send something back to prove we won.

"Are you ready?" I ask Silas this time.

"Do you think we'll make it out?" A sincere question, judging by the fear in his eyes. "Do you think we can do this?"

I sigh. "Only if you're willing to lead us. We need a king, Silas."

His face hardens when he looks back to the army of black and red in front of us. They're fighting Saebia's guards, the final line of defense. Silas's sword and shield clatter to the cobblestone and from within, he's readying an unknown power.

"Together," he promises. "We'll use the power that started all of this. The power of ground."

A grin stretches across my face and we step apart, granting enough distance. Renit grips onto my shoulders from behind, but when he realizes what is about to happen, he turns his attention to the Saebia guards attempting to hold back the enemy soldiers.

"Let them in!" He screams at the top of his lungs. His voice carries across the empty space of scarce bodies. "Make a hole!"

I watch Silas shake out his fists, watch him take a deep breath and puff out his cheeks. I've only done this with Citlali, but the power of ground is the power of ground.

Two witches of ground are worse than one.

The Saebia soldiers part. Shouting and screaming erupt, and it's not from them. It's from the Esaria soldiers advancing. "Hurry!" Renit warns. He takes Silas's shield and sword to use against arrows but applies his lightning blasts to take down a few out of the many.

My power pricks at my fingertips and with my nod, I tell Silas I'm ready. He returns with a similar movement. At the same moment, we send two beams of thick ground, stone, rock, mud, and dirt caked together as one—towards each other. They collide at the meeting point and the ground cracks underneath, splintering, and I'm almost knocked off my feet if it's not for Renit's hand against my back.

Now the world is shaking. I thrust the beam left, spinning as one with Silas's power of ground, and Renit's power snakes after it, the white lightning wrapping around and holding tight to keep the chunk secure. It snakes through and slams directly into the Esaria soldiers. The ground cracks open underneath and I pull, Silas doing the same.

As that thick beam of our two powers crumbles onto the surface of the ground, a new threat comes to life. The world splits in two and Saebia's courtyard, the palace, the enemy soldiers, they're falling into the surface of the world. Some attempt to cling onto the edge but Renit knocks them away with his lightning or wind.

The tornado rips through and my head begins to ache. The force to split the world in two drains me, but Silas shouts at me to keep going, keep going, we're almost there. When it's wide enough, when enough soldiers have fallen in, I squeeze my eyes shut, grit my teeth together, and push back in Silas's direction.

Bone crunches and screams die out when that crack is closed. Some bodies are half in, half out, completely crushed. They won't move again.

Arrows rain down from the broken windows in the king's great hall, coming from Tesha's bow. She shoots quickly, one after the other—all headshots.

"Are you all right?" Renit asks. He comes around to my front and wipes the stream of blood from my nose.

"I'm fine," I pant, wiping it away myself. I look around in preparation to move onto the next legion of soldiers too close to the castle. Instead, I find the king of Saebia fighting a small group of Esaria soldiers. "Protect your brother."

"Roux, you can't—"

Renit grabs my arm. "I'll be back. Protect Silas and protect yourself."

He lets go without another thought. We're to protect each other, and it pains me to leave him, but not all protection is so easily accessible in a battle. The bond between us is strong and it tightens in my chest when I run away from him, but that's only Renit's reminder to stay safe. I have to protect myself as much as I'm willing to protect him and everyone else.

The king of Saebia swings his sword with purpose. He's fighting for his people. Esaria's live count is still strong, but it's withering away with each blast from Citlali's power. My head is spinning and my legs are weak, but I will find the strength I need to keep going. Keep fighting. Keep using my power. That's all I can do and all anyone else can do, too.

A streak of blood covers the left side of his face, trickling from his brow, but that doesn't slow him in the slightest. He's a fighter, born and bred to be one, and he doesn't balk with bloodied armor or a bent shield. I rip the sword from the sheath over my head and thrust it into the back of one of the soldiers, hardly breaking my stride.

My power isn't needed here. We fight back to back, taking down each of the king's men. His control over them is strong, but that doesn't mean each skill has translated from him to the thousands he has converted. As I slay the enemies, I realize one very important thing. He's weaker than I expected. Control is not everything. Skill is. And they don't have the skill I thought they did.

Their tactics are relatively simple, the skills they learned under their own control, and it pains me to kill them. There are more of them shining through than the king. But I have no choice. They'll attempt to kill me and the people I care about and none of us are ready to die.

Blood stains my clothes and my sword, sprayed along my face when I turn to face the king of Saebia. His dark eyes are wide, his own face splattered with red, and he takes one deep breath.

"You're our last hope," I promise him. "You're Esaria's last chance."

"No." He shakes his head. "You are. Weeks ago, after my surrender, I sent for aid from the Asher line. They will arrive in time for us to leave for Esaria so they, too, can bring a rebirth to Esaria. You are worth it—your rebellion is worth it."

The Asher's. Hallie's kingdom. My body goes cold and hot at the same time, loose and tight, liquid and solid. This isn't just a rebellion anymore. This is an entire army, a fleet that the king won't expect. We're losing numbers here, but he doesn't know what is coming. Two kingdoms of deadly fighters, three kings against one that won't give up the throne.

I can't help but smile. Even through the decay of life around me.

I jerk a thumb back at his courtyard. "Sorry about your palace," I say with a grin. "Surely it'll see repair."

Arjun shakes his head. "That's the last thing I care about right now. What we need to focus on is bringing the king back nothing other than death. We will win. As Esaria's rebellion, we will win."

Not as Saebia, not as the kingdom belonging to the Asher's. As Esaria's rebellion, we are one. Enough words and promises have been shared. This ends now.

Arjun and I turn back to the remaining Esaria forces. His guards are fighting strong and the palace remains untouched, but the courtyard is completely demolished. I can't recognize where the hedges were once so perfectly lined; where the stone stairs descended so smoothly into puddles of soft green grass. Every piece of that is gone. Cracked stone, loose dirt, and bodies cover the field before us now.

I spot Renit in the distance, driving his sword through the stomach of a faceless soldier. Bodies litter around him in a circle and a twitch of anger rises in my abdomen at the sight of him fighting alone. I left him, but that doesn't mean he has to take everything upon himself—by himself.

Turning my attention to the king of Saebia, I say, "You never told me your power. Surely a king must be born with something of value."

Arjun's dark eyes twinkle. "My power is common and nothing that will provide any use in battle. I am a witch of the gardens, an immortal kind, and I brought beauty to this courtyard through my own fingers. I don't wish for battle; I wish for peace," he preaches.

I smile at that. A true king doesn't breed war; he doesn't seek it out or demand to know what the best routes are to reach it. The witch standing at my side is a true king and he'll follow in the footsteps of being a great ally. For a true king looks to protect his people, not by allying with war but by finding a way—at all costs—to unite lands together.

My chest loosens for the first time in a long time. For weeks, I haven't seen the light at the end of the tunnel. It's not the fault of anyone other than myself; a rebellion is often diminished to ash. But I've realized something in the minutes that have transpired. We stand a chance. We needed numbers, and although we're losing some here as the remainder of Esaria's soldiers lose their fight, but it's nothing compared to what we're gaining by having Saebia and Hallie's kingdom on our side.

Allies. We didn't need numbers. We needed allies.

"You're wise," I tell him, stepping away. "My sister was a witch of the gardens; she was for peace. I think you two would have gotten along nicely."

There's reluctance in his eyes when he turns his stare towards the tattered ground below his boots, forever stained by the blood of this battle. "The heaviest coffins are those that carry the young. Surely your sister is smiling upon you now."

"Either that or she thinks I'm completely crazy."

Arjun has shown many emotions in the short span we've been here. Anger, glee, gratitude—but he hasn't laughed. Not until now. He tips his head back to the blue sky and laughs, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort. I take that as my cue to leave and head in Renit's direction where he is still killing off the last of Esaria's soldiers.

My job is done. For now. I don't have to exhaust the remainder of my power to find the Grounding reserve that I wish to never see again. Renit's power is his own and I don't wish to take it. But I aid him with a blade and we fight side by side, defending each other and attacking to kill, to send a message back to his father.

We are not battling to lose. We are fighting for a cause and if he doesn't bend the knee, if he doesn't hand over his crown, we'll kick down the doors to his castle and demand a new light for the kingdom of Esaria. We'll strive to be like Arjun and hope to bring peace instead of war and suffering. I want a land that doesn't shift their gaze in fear or turn their eyes down upon being deliberately punished for something they can't control.

Esaria is better than that. And even if the land has never once seen a true leader, they will soon. For across the battlefield that was once the palace courtyard, the last Esaria soldier dies at Silas's hand. A slash to the throat and a kick to the gut and his body tumbles to the ground, leaving only a panting, blood-covered boy in his wake.

Silas clenches his hands tight at his sides and stares down at that final body, gritting his teeth. And when he lifts his sword to the sky, declaring a cry of victory that rattles the foundation of the world, I clench my hand so tight into a fist that my nails cut into my palm and punch towards the sky. Cries of victory stretch out across the land and we're left standing.

Esaria's rebellion, Saebia's guards, and one united cause. Freedom. 

Also, this is the reason I haven't been very focused on updates lately. It's a busy time of year for me, and I hope this cute picture is enough of an apology. These two were born today (2/7/2020)