Faye sat in a chair watching Makala breast feed in the chamber Alana gave them during this war.
Knock, knock!
Faye looked over to see Sous and Abigal standing in the doorway looking at them. Already dressed to head back into war, she kissed her wife and one year old baby. She followed Sous and the medium out into the hall.
"Whats up?" Faye asked.
"Things are going good. The platoons we sent out have been able to infiltrate many of the ghettos in the north and south," Sous explained. "Zhiliary over estimated these wolves loyalty."
"I suspect going to the training grounds and back to The Groken, things will heat up for us," Faye added in. "Alana has the ships lined up?"
"Yes, we'll be arriving on the beach," Sous said. They talked while Abigal just listened.
"Sous, who's gonna lead Canas?"
Sous stopped walking and looked at her best friend. "I-I don't know," she answered.
"We have to find a leader to lead Canas, set up a political system or else a civil war will break out," Faye spoke wisely. "I don't recommend annexing it until then."
They were quiet for a moment.
"Its something we need think about and have ready to go when this is all said and done," Faye finished.
The three boarded the war ships with the rest of their soldiers. The sea air smelled of salt and iron as the waves crashed against the hull.
Faye gripped the railing. The wind tugged at her braided hair, carrying with it the distant cries of seabirds and the muffled shouts of crewmen securing ropes.
The ship groaned beneath her feet, a deep, wooden protest against the relentless push of the tide. Waves slapped the hull in irregular bursts, spraying flecks of brine onto her already damp sleeves.
Across the deck, soldiers huddled in tight groups, sharpening blades or adjusting armor straps with silent efficiency.
The sea stretched endlessly before them, its surface shimmering with the last remnants of daylight like shattered glass scattered across a darkening tablecloth.
Sous shifted slightly beside Kara, their shoulders brushing, close enough to feel each other's warmth, yet distant enough that neither acknowledged the contact. Kara's fingers curled around the rust-speckled railing. She exhaled slowly, watching her breath twist into the wind before vanishing as if it had never existed at all.
BAM!
A jagged silhouette sliced through the reflection, its outline indistinct at first, like a smudge of ink spreading across parchment. Then the shape sharpened: a prow carved into the likeness of a snarling wolf, jaws agape, splintering the waves as it surged toward them.
No warning horn sounded. No shout rose from the rigging. Just the sudden, gut-wrenching lurch of the deck as their ship shuddered beneath the impact of something massive and unseen ramming into its flank.
Faye's knees buckled before her hands found the railing again, splinters bit into her palms. The world tilted violently.
Around her, soldiers tumbled like discarded dolls, weapons clattering across wet wood. Someone's shield spun past her ankles before disappearing overboard with a muted splash.
Kara stood perfectly still amidst the chaos, her feet lifting from the deck as if pulled upward by invisible strings. Her palms turned upward, fingers curling slightly like a puppeteer's hands mid-performance.
The air around her fingertips shimmered with a sickly purple hue, warping the fading light like heat distortion over desert sands.
Crack, Snip!
Beneath her, the ship groaned, not from the impact, but from the sudden absence of her weight pressing against its planks.
The magae came from her in an instance. The ships belonging to Apex combusted, blowing up. The screams of the enemies falling into the water filled her ears, drowning in the sea with their last breaths.
The sand inhaled them, dry grains swallowing boots whole with each trudging step. Behind them, the waves churned with charred timber and floating carcasses, the sea foaming pink where it lapped against jagged rocks jutting from the shallows as well as the blood from some of the enemy soldiers.
Faye's fingers twitched toward the dagger at her hip, every muscle coiled tight as she scanned the tree line ahead.
The platoon emerged from the dunes like ghosts, twenty figures in mismatched leathers and scavenged armor, their faces smeared with ash and something darker.
One, a woman with a scar bisecting her upper lip, stepped forward and pressed a fist to her chest in silent salute. Grains of sand clung to the dried blood crusted along her knuckles. Her eyes flicked past Sous and Faye to the wreckage bobbing in the surf, then back, sharper.
"We were given the order to escort you to the safe house for the next plan," she said.
The scarred woman's voice was hoarse, as if she'd been screaming for hours.
Sous nodded once, a sharp downward jerk of her chin that sent loose strands of hair sticking to her sweat-slicked neck.
The scarred woman spun on her heel without another word, leading them inland where the beaches gave way to a road.
"You're human," Sous said. As she looked around at the soldiers, yes, she saw they were human. She didn't know they had human allies.
They walked with their weapons: rifles, shotguns, pistols, glocks. Sous smirked, she shook her head. She had an inkling of who was at the safe house.
Sous felt the wind blow through her hair as she looked up at the sky, then at the humans around them. She recalled the humans who fought back in the south. She wondered if they were the same ones who were helping them now.
They made it to the safehouse and sure enough when Sous stepped through that door, she saw him.
"SHADOW!" She ran to him, hugging him, seeing just how old he was. He was completely grey in his seventies. "Wow, you're old," she said.
Shadow gave a little laugh. "Time happens to the best of us," he said, sounding a bit sad. Sous patted him on his shoulder.
"I don't have a lot of time left. Probably a decade, maybe a little more," he said, his eyes wise and tired. "This will be my last fight," he said. He was quiet watching Sous as her eyes watered. It was his time to pat her on her shoulder. He gulped. "The Three Sisters are with Tany in the north."
"Hacate?" She asked.
He shook his head.