It took hours for their group to be sent out, and they didn’t spend that time idly. While Valerie mostly stuck to Lucas’ side, the rest of their temporary party set out to gather what information they could. What they learned was this:

  There were thousands of insurgents mounting a guerrilla war in Dawnguard’s inner ring. They were going to great lengths to ensure no direct harm was done to any innocents—or, at least, they were making sure any harm appeared to be the fault of the Order. Word was spreading rapidly through the city that this was all part of the Order of Five’s plans, and they were the ones responsible for the ongoing conflict.

  In a way, that wasn’t entirely untrue, in that the Order had indeed been in the midst of launching major operations to purge groups like these. While Lucas’ party had dealt with a New Dawn ambush, other skycloaks had been setting about rooting out dozens of other rogue elements in the city. Many incidents had occurred, and they hadn’t been quiet.

  It was still a disingenuous claim, though, and it gave some insight into the broader strategy the dissident groups were deploying, and their ultimate goals. Much like Niall had been, they were trying to turn public sentiment against the Order as a while.

  There was another major factor in this situation that kept popping up, and it came in the form of a regularly repeated term in the reports they snooped on: groups. Plural.

  Whether from the mouths of captured or dying men, the skycloaks returning from operations were reporting that they were hearing a lot of different group names. There were ones Lucas recognised, such as Darkstar and New Dawn, but there were plenty he didn’t. Valerie seemed to know them all, and her expression darkened with each they heard.

  “It seems we face something of a coalition,” Valerie said after overhearing yet another report at the Order’s main gates.

  “We knew that was a possible consequence of nudging the Order into being proactive on the issue,” Florence said. “None of those groups could stand against the might of the Order alone, so it’s only logical that they’d seek to band together.”

  “Indeed. The fact they came together so quickly is strange, though. While they share a mutual opposition to the Order, I was given to believe there was a lot of bad blood between these groups. For them to set it aside so quickly, even in the face of an Order-led purge, there has to be more to it. Admittedly, there’s nothing in evidence to suggest there isn’t a lot of infighting going on between them at this moment, but…” Valerie trailed off, cupping her chin in thought.

  “You think something else is going on?” Lucas asked.

  “It’s a possibility,” Valerie said. “But I have no useful guesses as to what that may be.”

  The overwhelming majority of skycloaks returned from their missions without injury, displaying their superior training, teamwork, and skill against opponents with far less organisational capacity. But that didn’t mean there were no problems.

  At one point, Lucas’ party bore witness to a trio of three skycloaks returning, with two of them carrying limp bodies on their shoulders while a fifth brought up the rear in a defensive position, shield held high. Their forms were almost entirely covered in soot, turning their cloaks, armour, and faces black. Even so, the devastation on their faces was still visible through the tear tracks on their cheeks and the clenches jaws and the wild eyes, and Lucas was fairly sure he saw those same three surviving skycloaks heading back out attached to a larger group less than an hour later, fury etched into their expressions. Part of him felt pity for any dissidents who crossed those three’s paths from here on out.

  The explosions out in the city began to die down, but the fires continued to burn. Fire suppressant crews were unable to get out there to handle it due to the ongoing conflict, leaving the Order as the only organisation present to combat the crisis. Except, of course, for the fact that Order personnel were being ambushed left and right.

  Their calls to the city watch to intervene in the situation apparently went ignored; the watch was focused on keeping peace in the other rings of the city, leaving the Order to restore peace to the inner ring. Many skycloaks had looked murderous when a messenger arrived to deliver that news to Master Haddem.

  Master Haddem himself, however, had simply nodded and said: “So be it. We will remember this.”

  Time went on. Groups came and went. More and more skycloaks returned covered in soot, and it seemed the injuries were increasing as the hours crawled by. Lucas felt himself growing restless. Nervous energy built up within him. The urge to get out there and do something was near overwhelming, but he resisted it. Now was not the time to step outside the chain of command and go taking matters into his own hands.

  All he had to do was be patient. Valerie had said herself that they would have no choice but to head out there eventually, and she was correct.

  The call came shortly after the sun reached its zenith and began its slow descent towards the opposite horizon from whence it began the day. A runner approached Valerie in particular, handing her a small roll of parchment. She scanned it, then cut her gaze across the courtyard until it rested on a building that sat at the mouth of the path that led up to the Moontower.

  Standing at just four stories, an abnormally low height by the mad standards of construction in this city, the building sported a thatched roof and a front door wider than a barn’s. Even so, the wide entrance seemed to constantly be choked with people coming and going, carrying messages and reports. A crowd loitered around outside, listening for news. Florence, Symar, and Cherry had been among them, at various times.

  Valerie led the way over, waving for the rest of them to follow. The crowd parted at the sight of her, though there were few whispers or stares, for once. People had better things to do, for once.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  There were more people inside in the grand, wide reception room, but these were too busy to even acknowledge the new arrivals’ presence, and Lucas’ group had to weave their way through the throng until they reached a smaller door at the back of the room, where two guards stood sentinel on either side. Upon spotting Valerie, one reached down and opened the door, letting them in. This new room beyond was smaller, with bare white walls and the only light source coming from a crystal that hung on a string from the ceiling.

  Master Meyah seemed to have aged a decade in a day. Her skin had always been pale, but now it looked ashen, and her long neck was tensed with stress, veins sticking out. Hunching over a massive wooden desk covered in scraps of parchment and paper, she regarded Valerie with eyes that were sharp as blades nevertheless.

  “Captain Vayon,” Meyah intoned the name like it was a fell omen. Her voice was noticeably thinner than it had been in their last encounter. “You can undoubtedly surmise how reluctant I am to send you out into this situation.”

  Valerie just nodded, staying silent as she took a position in front of Meyah’s desk, the rest of the party flanking her on either side. Lucas ended up on the far right of their line, with Cherry between him and Valerie, and Florence and Symar taking up the other flank.

  “So I hope I do not need to impart upon you the importance of the task I wish to assign to you,” Meyah continued. “Do not mistake my mistrust of your unfortunate affliction for doubt in your competence. If nothing else, you’ve proven quite the effective demon killer. Speaking of which.” Meyah’s attention turned to Lucas. “Perform your check on me.”

  Lucas didn’t even question how the Master of Security had come to learn of their suspicions regarding a demonic possession, instead stepping up and doing as asked. Manipulating lunar mana was becoming all too easy at this point, and the technique to check her mana pathways was practically second nature. In seconds, he had all the confirmation he needed. Jam’s lack of reaction to the woman only served to affirm his assessment. Stepping away, he gave a simple nod.

  Master Meyah returned the gesture, then panned her gaze across the rest of their party before settling it on Lucas once more. “Before I get into your briefing, I must ask that you make yourself available as much as you reasonably can, in the future. I will be investigating your possession claims, and it shall be imperative that I have access to multiple individuals who can corroborate each other’s assessments on the matter.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Lucas said, glancing side-along at Valerie. She didn’t return his look, her icy eyes fixed on Meyah.

  “Do you have any suspects?” Valerie asked.

  “Too many to name,” Meyah said, still looking at Lucas. Her eyes seemed to bore into him, as if she was searching for secrets in his appearance. It was all he could do not to fidget in place. After a few tense seconds, though, she turned back to Valerie. “Listen closely, Captain, for I do not have time to repeat myself. I’ve received word that an asset has been trapped, and you are going to retrieve them and return them here safely.”

  ~~~

  Standing at the Order’s gates with his party around him, Lucas focused on taking deep, even breaths, doing his best to give his body all the right signals that would tell it to keep calm. The grip on his sword was firm but not too tight. His mana was circulating in an even, unhurried pattern; Lunar, for now, because he wanted the extra calming effect. He kept his posture loose, casual.

  Even so, his heart was racing. It felt ridiculous. This was far from his first time heading out into combat. Hell, it wasn’t even his first time going out knowing he was probably going to be fighting other human beings, either. And he had elite combatants at his side, to boot. The danger was minimal.

  But it’s not about the danger, is it?

  Looking down at his sword, it was hard not to picture it halfway impaled through a man’s neck. The wide eyes in the gloom. The choking gurgle.

  Lucas closed his eyes, focusing on breathing.

  There was no escaping it. Chances were high that he was going to be dealing out more death today. Quite apart from more rational quandaries like needing all the combat-capable humans they could get in the war against the Demon Lord, the simple fact was that he didn’t fucking want to kill anyone. The mere thought made him sick. No matter how he looked at it, the fact that two men had already fallen to his blade and more would follow just seemed so ridiculous.

  And yet, he followed when Florence finished speaking to the guards on duty and led them out into the chaos of the city. He voiced no complaint as they rushed down the debris-strewn streets beneath looming towers of smoke, ash raining down on their heads and shoulders. He showed no reaction when they passed an alleyway and briefly witnessed a group of skycloaks piling bodies into a cart.

  It was all so wrong. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be.

  There was a ball of disgust and despair and rage building in his heart, and it felt like a solid lump of lead was lodged in his chest by the time Florence called them to a stop. Lucas’ attention had been waning, but he snapped back to focus when he caught sight of what Florence had called a halt for.

  A group of people, twenty at minimum. They wore black cloaks, hooded, and every one of them carried some variation of the traditional Five. Wands, Swords, Bows, Shields. Seeing them crowding around the entrance to a burning building, Lucas distantly noted his heart dropping.

  Even through the flames, he could make out the five metallic five-pointed stars painted in a fascinating silver-to-blue gradient that hung above the doorway. Quickly counting, he confirmed that the building was nine stories tall, and six windows wide. He wondered if perhaps the paint wasn’t the right colour—it was hard to tell past the tongues of flame wagging through the windows—but knew he was clutching at straws.

  Eventually, he had to face the fact that a fight with these people was inevitable.

  There was a ringing in his ears. A buzz prickled across his skin from head to toe and back again. Lunar mana circulated through his system, and a sense of detachment settled over him. Valerie was at his right, blade drawn and already shining white. Florence’s glaive glowed red to match it. Symar’s bow was drawn. Cherry’s shield was at the ready. No words had been exchanged. None were needed. Their task had been made clear to them, and these people stood between them and their purpose.

  The crowd of hooded figures noticed the approaching skycloaks and a ripple seemed to pass through their group. They turned. Evidently, they saw no need for words, either.

  There was no signal. No shout or flash or gesture. The respective groups didn’t trade a word of banter or waste a single breath on negotiation. There was a moment of stillness, a calm before the storm. Fires raged. Wind kicked up small clouds of detritus. The two groups stared each other done for a frozen, breathless moment.

  Then a shining white arc of light speared across the distance between them faster than the eye could track. Valerie’s attack took the enemy by surprise, slashing through four of them before anyone could react. Four human beings, dead just like that.

  The ensuing moments were madness.