In the nameless hills southwest of Amaranth, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Its vibrant golden light stained the rolling hills, marking the crest of each and gilding the rare copse of trees. Blue shadows stretched in the valleys, filling the spaces between the stone walls and turrets of an encampment.

It was a sturdy structure that had once been a town. Low yields and fleeing farmers had gutted its streets well before the Orders had set up camp. The signs of its recent construction were everywhere among the older, dilapidated shops and residences. From atop the command tower, Paval overlooked his domain. The stone walls were new, freshly risen by earth mages, while the interior was filled with white canvas tents to supplement the rough houses they were converting into barracks.

Paval had only led his Paladins to the outpost in the last week, sent south by the Hierophant; a hundred strong arms sent to secure their borders. They were not alone, however—some Inquisitors had been ordered southwest as well. They were one of many companies pushed from the Shining City and sent to guard the lonesome wilds. Paladins and Inquisitors drilled down below, breakfast having been eaten long ago, and the clatter of their efforts was a balm against the rage in his Spirit.

“You seem especially angry today, Paval,” Commander Kiska said from behind him. She leaned indolently against the interior wall, the door to the command chamber to her left.

"We were sent away to the backwater borderlands. It boils my heart each time I think on it.”

“We were given a task by the Hierophant,” Kiska corrected calmly. “It is our duty to protect the edges of her domain.”

Paval sneered, but his expression smoothed when he faced the woman. The Commander of the Eighteenth Inquisitor Company was not a small person—she easily matched Paval in height if not brawn, and her Intelligence was enough to be considered a mage. She was fully armored, as they always were during waking hours, but her kit was marred with the signs of the road. For all her purported calm, she looked more worn out than him.

Dark circles laid heavy under her eyes and her hair was mussed from a long night of scouting. She and her company had only just returned, having taken a tour of the surrounding areas. Paval and the Paladins would be next, taking turns to keep this small section of the Hierocracy safe.

"The Hierophant sent us out here because we no longer listened to her,” Paval spat. “We were pushed out of the way.”

"Speak for yourself, Paval. Me and mine are still loyal to the Shining Palace…as are you, deep in that knot you call a heart."

The Paladin Commander didn't have to look around to know that Kiska's hand was on the pommel of her burning sword. They had known each other a very long time. They had gained their Blessings from the Pathless together in the Command Academy. But things had changed in the last few weeks.

"The Pathless is dead, Kiska. That changes everything. The Hierophant does not appreciate those who have taken up the Twins' Armaments.”

“She knows of our loyalty. She knows that we must seek power in order to protect our people. You heard her. She gave her decree. All of us, no matter whose worship we take on, all of us are one."

Paval laughed and turned to face her. "Did you truly believe that? The Hierophant was the Pathless' mouthpiece to the world. He died, Kiska, and took too many of our brethren with Him."

Kiska's mouth flattened to a grim line. He knew what was going through her Mind. They traveled the same paths as his own. The memory of soldiers, men and women, young and old, falling to their knees as the sun went dark. So many of their number had died during the Day of Black Sun, when the Pathless had been murdered.

"The Hierophant saved us," Kiska pointed out. "Her power preserved those of us who still stood.”

“And yet she could do nothing for those that have fallen. Nothing for the future.” Paval sliced his hand across the air, and wind rushed between the two of them. “The Pathless is dead. The future now lies with the Twins."

"I do not wish to argue this again, Paval. Followers of all the gods are welcome in the Hierocracy, as was decreed. Those of you who have taken up the Twins' Armament are just as worthy as those who have clung to the old ways."

Paval wished to believe that.

There were two hundred soldiers at this outpost. More still were only thirty leagues east. Many others had been recalled to the capital by the Hierophant herself. Among those were many who followed the Twins. Still others had embraced the Lady of Night, in all her shadowed glory. A few even embraced the Rot Lord Himself. It was a dwindling minority who remained beneath the sundered auspices of the Pathless.

With the god dead, the Hierophant could only do so much to stabilize their core spaces. The old gods had returned. They were the only source of stability any longer.

"The Hierophant may decree one thing, but there will come a time when we must choose whether to pursue the power through the gods…or follow her.” Now Paval did sneer. “And I fear, Kiska, that she will place on us a burden we cannot bear."

"The Hierophant is saving our people, Paval. My family is safe because of the Shining Palace. She has earned my loyalty."

"And she squanders the rest of us." Paval held out a hand and a blade of blue force extended from his gauntlet, its edge crackling with silver light. "The Twins are the most powerful of the old gods. Look at this Blessing. Look at what I can summon with the merest flex of my Will."

He slashed downward through the air, and the blue blade left a keening note in its wake. "You see the silver?"

"I do," Kiska said quietly. "Is that...?"

"Yes. The Twins revealed it to me in a vision." He touched the center of his breastplate, now limned with a metallic blue light. "Their power is bolstered further by the remnants of Siva herself."

"So it's true," she said. "The Twins took what remained of the Goddess of Fortune. Another casualty to the great Enemy that threatens all of us.”

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“The Fiend,” Paval scoffed. “A fiction made for weak Minds.”

“Believe or not, the Enemy must be stopped regardless.”

"You are correct, Kiska. We must keep our people safe. You seek your way, while I seek mine."

"And what is your way?"

Paval looked up into the brightening sky. Clouds gathered, thin and golden in the dawn's early light. "I will destroy the Fiend, raze his foul people to the earth before sundering the Seal he dared rebel against. As the Twins command. Only then shall we remain safe."

“A tall order,” Kiska said. She tried to hide it, but Paval could hear the disdain in her voice. "And what if the enemy comes here, as the Hierophant promised?"

"Then we cut them down."

"You expect to cut down an enemy that slew two gods?"

"Lies. All lies. You think the gods can be killed by a mortal? By a rebel out of some backwater Territory? No. It's all a ruse, don’t you see? Pax’Vrell has rebelled. So have the wizards in Levantier. All of it is happening too quickly. Too orderly. Doesn't that make you question things?"

"You mean to say the mages and the Dragoons are allied?"

"Who else could band together to take on the gods? The Pathless and our strongest army was killed outside Pax’Vrell, were they not? What could take down the gods except a coalition of unholy magic? And if that coalition dares set their foot in Amaranth, then we will destroy them. The strong arm of the gods themselves backs us—not one, but four!” He slashed his blade of force and it keened. “I will cut their hearts out myself.”

"And if they catch us unaware? How would you defend against them?”

“That is what you are here for, is it not, Inquisitor Commander?"

Kiska leaned back against the wall of the command tower. "We found nothing but endless fields of grass and lowing cattle. If you are right, the true attack will come from the east, not here."

"So you believe me?"

"I did not say that, Paval. But your point is compelling. Truly, it boggles reason to think that someone could contest the gods directly. An alliance is far more palatable."

"Hmm. It is good that you see reason. I would that we speak further on—"

A gleam caught his eye and his tongue stilled. A faint trembling caught the command tower’s stones. Paval looked toward the south, where the sky was still a touch dark. No. He squinted. Not dark. The sun still shone to the south, but clouds had blocked it out. Clouds rising from the earth itself.

Lightning flashed, and a calamitous thunder rolled. Paval's eyes widened.

"It's coming closer," Kiska shouted. "Sound the alarm!"

The warning bell shook the outpost, and Paladins and Inquisitors alike rushed forward. There was no panic in them, only an eager joy in their gait as they gathered their weapons and strapped on their armor. Avum were collected and saddled, readied for the soldiers to mount their enchanted lances, set aside by squires.

Paval leaned against the railing of the balcony, staring at the horizon as more lightning flashed, regular as a heartbeat.

Something's not right. He wrapped himself in another of the Twin's Blessings. “Shield of Domination.” A shield of force hugged him like a second skin over his armor. "Ready yourself, Kiska. Pull on whatever power remains in the Light. That is not any natural storm."

The distant hills were swiftly occluded by clouds of dust, those flashes of lightning skittering off of green grasses, striking fires in their wake.

"Form ranks!" the captains called out below, as the Twinblessed Paladins raised their weapons and the gates dropped. They charged out of the outpost, headed toward the unnatural storm. Their new magic marshalled within them—a blaze of blue metallic force that gave each of them blades that hung above their head like unspent projectiles. Shields unfurled from the bannermen, domes of protection that glittered like metal, the force-mana infused with an argent gleam.

The storm hit.

Paval lost sight of his men immediately, only to spot their corpses as they shot into the air, their pieces rent like so much meat upon a butcher's slab. In moments, the storm had consumed them all.

It was upon them.

The abandoned town split as bricks and timber were shorn free of their foundations, while stone walls failed and tents were torn through. Thunder shook Paval, scattering his thoughts and driving him to his knees. The world tilted, and it was a full heartbeat before he realized the command tower had been sundered. He was thrown to the earth.

Paval rolled to his feet, sword swept up into a high guard, only to be blasted out of his hands by a shockwave that ripped apart the earth and set fire to all it touched. Lightning coursed on by, striking through his protective wards, burning his hands until his armor melted against his flesh. Paval screamed, barely able to make out Kiska's shouts of defiance before he saw her head split from her shoulders. Her body followed as debris skewered her to the earth.

No! Not like this!

The wings of a monster spread wide over the rising sun, and scales of purest night blotted out the sky.

Silence followed.

The storm vanished, followed swiftly after by a replenishing breeze that sent the dust clouds to earth. His Paladins rallied, their domes of force reestablishing their felled dominance—just in time to watch the elemental riot carry onward toward the horizon.

Paval stared after it, filled with a numbness that prickled cold against his limbs. Only the hot wash of blood across his brow brought some semblance of reason. Of urgency.

“Captains!” he croaked. A few Paladins and Inquisitors drew near, all of them looking as dazed as he felt. “The Relay! Is it hale?”

“Barely, sir!”

Paval leveraged himself upright, leaning on a broken beam to support his busted leg. A madness gripped him, burning at his center. “Send a message, now! We must warn them!”

An Inquisitor Captain stared after the storm, now a fading speck on the horizon. “Warn them of what? A magical tempest?”

“No!” Paval seized the man by his collar. “Warn Amaranth! The Fiend is coming!”

“We’re flying too low!” Vess shouted over the chaos.

“What? Oh!” Felix adjusted his grip on Adamant Discord, hauling the pair of them higher into the sky. He glanced back. “Did we hit something?”

“I’m not sure!”

She glanced back, but all Felix could see was a cloud of dust and…was that a stone wall? It hadn’t felt like a stone wall.

“Either way,” she said, focusing forward. “We need to be higher.”

Had they drifted downward during their flight? Felix had never experienced that while using the bonds to travel. It wasn’t like jumping or being shot from an arrow. It was more like—Oh.

“I think the land is rising in elevation!”

“That’s good!” Vess’ hair whipped in the mad wind, but her voice reached him as easily as her wings carved the sky. “Amaranth lies at the highest point in the Territory!”

Felix bared his teeth. “Then up we go.”