For as many soulless soldiers I see, there aren't nearly enough of Rivian's forces. Black covers the land, not just in their moving armor but their oily blood. Yet, they're controlling the battle. Pushing closer and closer to the city with each passing second. It won't take long before they break through and Wyetta Terravale has what she wants. We'll risk the lives of innocents to protect the palace.

That sight won't be pretty. My family remains in their home, waiting to determine fate. Closer and closer, each looming second passing with a slow tick, the soulless army presses on. They'll raid every home, kill every life not willing to comply to their new queen. I don't wish to think they'll ask my family the same questions, whether they'll take Wyetta as their new leader.

I'm getting too far ahead of myself. We have dragons and explosives. Wyetta has numbers. We should have a chance. A crawling slither of doubt, swirling like autumn leaves against a crisp breeze, churns around my body. I come back to myself, to Cloak's grip tight around my bicep. He has stopped his mad attempt to kill Wyetta to stare at the city, our distance away from helping innocent people. I wonder if he fears for Castiel, for Theoden.

Through a cluster of smoke and fighting men and women, Gustus and Theo come into view. I bite down a sob of relief at the sight of them approach, their eyes wide. Brows furrowed. Frowns deep with worry. They realize the ache of loss as much as we do. At the realization of their approach, Cloak resumes his tug. "Come, Marie," he orders. "We're going back to the city."

Gustus's face catches my attention more than Cloak's does. They're both covered in black blood, but I still recognize Gustus compared to his brother's mask of killing calm he slips into. This is the first time I've laid eyes upon it, and I don't wish to see it unless absolutely necessary.

Something else, other than the lives he has taken, tugs at Gustus. He has his husband with him, his siblings and his mother are still alive as much as I know, but the battle continues to sway in both directions. We're standing in the middle of it. My mind drowns out the array of blades, the blunt strikes, bodies slamming into the dirt.

"We're running out of options," Gustus pants. He keeps his hand clasped in Theo's. Stuck together with the evidence of lives they took. "We need a stronger force than this. It'll have to be one or the other."

I take a moment to realize he's speaking only to me. Cloak breaks away, only for a moment, to take on an oncoming soulless soldier that has noticed us upon the heap of turned over earth. I'm not surprised; we stand out like a beacon amongst the chaos. Theo does what his husband is too busy to do and steps down, aiding his brother-in-law. More are approaching. In fact, there appears to be more black armor than that of Rivian's softer, silver and blue glistening.

Red blood streams from Gustus's brow. The feathered pauldron on his right shoulder arches skyward on a normal day but has faced the slice of enemy sword. Feathers bend and push farther into the battlefield's surface. Contrasting his blond hair, Gustus's dark eyebrows crease together above the bridge of his nose.

He licks his dry, cracked lips. Normally, he applies a shimmer of gloss that he claims Theo loves. Beauty stands behind forces when waiting for death's row.

"We can't lose our lives because of her," he shouts over Cloak's echoing grunt. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him fall to the ground.

"Gustus, this doesn't ride completely on your shoulders. Everyone is taking a blow, and—"

He thrusts a hand out behind me. "Look around you, Marie. Look."

I give a nervous laugh, half looking at Cloak kick off the soulless soldier a second before Theo drives his sword into the back of the dead man's black armor. He falls like a ton of bricks onto the prince after Theo pries the blade out of his back. "You can't give up yet, we have more forces coming. This is not everything Rivian has; it can't be."

Instead of using words that won't shatter the surface of my stubbornness, Gustus grabs onto my shoulders and spins me towards the battlefield. My eyes fall upon the many sets of black armor. They have stopped pouring over the jagged rocks where Wyetta waits, her hands on her hips and staring out at her goal and nothing else. The city.

I can't spotmore than five Rivian soldiers. Pieces of their armor are discarded on the crumbled ground, shoved and trapped in the frozen dirt. Those that are still standing take their final breaths against the swarm of soulless soldiers that managed to get by Setsuko's bombs. Those, too, have stopped their fierce effort. Every arsenal empties at some point.

I didn't realize it would be so soon. My stare locks onto a frightened Rivian soldier as his enemy drives a sword through his stomach. The blade cuts through a layer of armor with ease, and he cries out, shattering death into the night. A cold wind whips past me as he falls to his knees, only to receive a blow to the nose. His body falls like crumpled paper in the wind. Slow, and hard. Blood doesn't receive the chance to stream from his nose, for he's already dead.

That's another Rivian loss. An innocent man that left his family behind to fight for his queen.

They're getting closer to the city. Cloak and Theo can't take on the oncoming soldiers forever. I can't begin to wonder where Setsuko and Aela have disappeared to, or if their mother has bothered to remain long enough to applaud the slaughter. My only hope is that someone, even her rotten soul, protects the city. As if waiting for her sister, or for the entire city to crumble, Wyetta remains where she is. I fear the moment she moves. That means we have lost.

Gustus spins me back towards him and maintains a steady hold on my shoulders. He must realize the weakness of my body before I do. I can't feel my hands. Something thrashes within me, whether the need to protect my family or to take a life that doesn't belong to me—the impulses are never clear. I have too many of them, apparently.

"I can't reveal this," Gustus whispers, dipping his head low so only my ears will digest his words.

I blink. What is he talking about? Reveal what?

I think of what we share, what Gustus stands to lose. He possesses Luminary abilities that'll level the battlefield if they're used, but like me, he keeps them a secret from those he doesn't trust with his life. If only there were more Luminaries on the field that could—

We're running out of options.

Gustus's voice bangs around in my skull.

One...or the other.

I meet his frightened stare with a slow turn of my head. His nails dig into my shoulders, but my skin is too frozen to register the sting of pain. Those hands have brought me reassurance with my Luminary power; Gustus told me to always keep it hidden and protected from those outside a circle of people that would look upon us with fear and hatred. I spent months never worrying about having to reveal my true self to anyone because the prince promised me that would never be the case.

That has left along with the remainder of his sanity.

"You wish for me to...expose myself?" I squeak.

"I am a prince, Marie." He brings his hand to his chest, directly over his racing heart. With a wild shake of his head, he adds, "They would never forgive me. They would take my head long before realizing what I've done."

My face curls into a snarl. "And you think my fate would be any different? I was a peasant in a village that hardly produced a fraction of food for this kingdom, and I have already slipped underneath your mother's grasp once before."

I practically shove out of his hold, stepping back firmly onto the clumps of dirt. How he could ever propose something is beyond me. Did he ever care for my life at all?

"That's the thing!" he practically shouts. "My mother showed you mercy once already. It's possible she will do that again."

"I spun a story, Gustus." My voice cracks and I'm surprised to find the lump in my throat betraying me completely. Tears sting in the frozen night. To my right, Cloak yanks a soulless soldier from climbing the heaps to get towards us, and he faces a cut to the arm. If taking away his alcohol made him a monster, I have thought wrong. He unleashes himself upon the oncoming men with a rush of strength in his bones and doesn't falter until they lay dead in a pile around him. I whirl back to the insane prince standing in front of me. Yet, he feels so far away. "I spun a story that I was a healer, not what everyone else believed me to be."

He swallows a thick lump in his throat and closes his eyes for a brief, too long moment. "If one of us doesn't do this, the city will not recover. The soulless are already there, and soon enough, Wyetta Terravale will join them."

Losing one life doesn't outweigh that of thousands. I can reveal myself, I can save the city with my Luminary magic, and end up in shackles. The queen will take my head, but that won't matter if I push her sister back into the Void where she belongs. I lied to her once already; she'll never trust me again if I reveal myself to be of a darker, more threatening power.

Gustus wishes for me to sacrifice myself to save everyone else. My family, him, the royals, the city.

"Marie!" Cloak shouts.

I gasp from the sheer height of his fury. He's locked in a never-ending battle against a group of soulless soldiers that are circling him. Months ago, I would've stood by and watched the fight unfold. If there wasn't a prince to save, I wouldn't have to worry about Millicent taking my life, but I take one step down the heap of explosion to save him and find that my magic rises underneath my skin. Ready to defend, even if he isn't aware of its existence.

I stop myself.

"Get back to the city!" he screams through his teeth and shoves off the blade of a soulless soldier. The prince squats low, ducking, and avoids a blow that would've taken his head.

Feet away, Theo clutches onto his stomach. His face twists into an unsettling grimace.

The city isn't safe. Where Cloak tells me to go, I'll meet danger there too. Wherever I run, whether into the Void or back into Exole, Wyetta's threat will be there. Hasn't that always been the case? She has hung over my head, dangling on a branch and swinging her ankles for three years now. I have woken from sweaty nightmares about her granting me these powers, and I always woke prepared to stop her if she ever came near. I wanted to make her pay for what she did to Castiel. Now that I'm here, faced with a decision, I can't say I'm ready to make it.

Silver and blue armor flashes in the corner of my vision, and a screaming Lyndel leaps into the air, using his fladline abilities to land on an unsuspecting soulless soldier. He drives a dagger into the back of his neck and falls to the ground, only to twist back to his feet and face another. He locks eyes with the prince, with both princes, and slaughters his way through until Theo can aid again after being dealt a crippling blow to knock the air from his lungs.

Once the enemy lays in a heap around the three of them, Cloak brings his hands to his knees and spits blood onto a patch of snow. His stare locks with mine. Not a shrivel of strength remains to argue with the fact I'm still standing here and not running for my life towards safety.

Like the rest of us, Lyndel is covered in a sticky layer of blood. "We don't have much time," he pants. He winces when he brings up an arm to wipe at his nose. His next words drive a stake through my heart. "Millicent Terravale has fled."