The gates exploded on impact. It caught them all off guard, as each of the marauders were locked in place, impotent of movement. Each of the children clutched at the bars, nervous in anticipation as they viewed the lone figure - the eye of the Erto-en storm that almost hovered over the parade ground- a spectre moving into the direct centre of the camp before she sat cross-legged on the dirt.

Everyone was completely stunned by this spectacle. The Dark Macrimancer- the head of the camp laughed at this intrusion, but it was mostly out of shock and a growing sense of disorientation. They all peered nervously at this girl, more a young woman, with hair of fire, looking directly through the eyes of the dark humanoid.

"And to what do we owe this interruption, from this, this Freyling?"

"This is not my first day at camp. And know this Macrimancer, this is not the first slave camp I've laid waste to. There have been countless others."

The man tensed as she said this. He noticed her eyes were closed as he voiced his response, bringing his staff up. "Are we meant to be intimidated by this? Do you know what we can do to you?"

She took a deep breath, and within the briefest of seconds, the man's staff was on fire. His hand immediately dropped it in response.

"I will tell you this once, and only once. Please leave now, all of you and release your slaves- your Children of the Way and walk away with your lives intact. Fail to do so, and you will meet our justice, which will be swift."

Despite the pain of his singed hand, the man still laughed mockingly. "Childish tricks. That's all this is. Us? Who is this great force that will punish us?"

The remaining guards raised their weapons, and within moments, they felt the ground tremor right underneath their feet, before the earth swallowed two of the guards up, sending them tumbling into a large meteoric hole in the ground. They could hear voices chanting from all around the perimeter of the camp fortress. "We honour the Way! We honour the Way! We are the Way! We honour the Way!"

Some guards looked on in horror, others took up arms and either snapped up a spear or nocked an arrow to their bows. The children of the east block of slave quarters felt a gust of wind and watched as a gaping hole of air burst through the eastern wall, with the figure of Artreide walking through it, and a few soldiers behind him. "Free the prisoners."

He directed them, pointing to the locks on the gates. One of the guards lunged at him with a blade, but he knocked it effortlessly to the ground before knocking the guard out cold with a whirl of his staff.

The left wall was hit with a wave from the nearby river, and Bohina and Keodren followed soon after, as though appearing behind an aqueous wall of illusion, before sending a group of young students to release the remaining slaves. The first thing they all did was run to the river and drank in some fresh water, each cupping their hands and gulping it down frantically.

The Head Macrimancer hobbled back onto his foot, his eyes penetrating Chenari's. "This was all for nothing. Soon our dark leader will return." As he spoke, he levelled his staff and hurled a ball of fire towards Chenari, but it was quickly pushed back against him, in an instant and engulfing him before he could do anything else.

"I'm counting on it."

It wasn't the first time Chenari had seen an enemy immersed in flame, the cries of agony now muted in her ears.

The rest of their party organised the children and made sure they all had some food left over in the mess hall. Some were more fatigued than others but the wave of optimism that washed over them renewed them for a time. Artreide spied his daughter across the grounds and headed in her direction just as Bohina hugged her tight. "You did well. You were calm and you tried to use diplomacy."

"I don't think so.

"Chenari, don't doubt yourself. There is only one outcome for a force this dark."

Chenari turned to see her father looking at her, his face swelled with pride.

"and what say you, Father?"

"Why I couldn't have said it better myself. Did you not know I was a ventriloquist?"

They each rolled their eyes at the man, which only excited him further; enough to give a great belly laugh. It was unfortunately infectious and rather impossible not to join him. The mood soon passed, however, and he continued to notice the grave look on her face.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing."

"It can't be nothing, your words say one thing, but your face tells me a very different story, my lovely."

Bohina returned a similar gaze and patted her on the shoulder. "Go on, tell us what's on your mind."

"Nothing."

Both parents opted for a more serious one, demanding of her almost in unison. "Tell us, or we will not be leaving."

"Well that's just silly, these children need to get going."

"They can wait a moment longer. Tell us."

Chenari sighed and paused for a while before she saw that her parents were not going to budge and continued to lock eyes with hers. She gave up and sighed again, "It's been years since I escaped, and how many of these camps have we stumbled across? What difference does it make, if we're losing the war?"

Bohina shook her head, "We can't be losing. Just look at how many we have freed, and either returned to their families, or have taken on as our students. Besides, one day this war will end, and a new world will emerge from its ashes."

It was Chenari's turn to disagree. "Not the way our enemy talks. You've heard them...Valezk will return."

Artreide scratched his beard in irritation. "Yes... and let him for all I care. The difference is that we will be ready this time, and with a much larger force. And this time, it will be the united people of Celesk fighting against him, not just a select group. Besides, we have you."

"Well, look at me. Not quite a Freyling. Not quite a Guardian. Still prone to night terrors. I couldn't lead people out of a small hole, let alone into the fight that's coming."

Artreide replied, "That's not true. Just look at how well you did today. Besides, remember it's one step at a time, Chenari. One step at a time."

She surveyed the scene laid out in front of her: children sobbing in either complete sadness, or out of sheer joy for their emancipation. The first time in an age since they were able to let go of their emotions. Sometimes she would feel ripples in the Erto-en, pulses of energy that would push out like either tremors on the ground or a swift breeze. They were all frail, undernourished, with some of them just a walking set of bones. This war had been cruel on the many, but especially, the children.

One step at a time.