Chapter 1216: Final Plans

The Radian Plains were a vast, mostly flat stretch of hills and grasslands that lay around Roann, butting up against the mountains. A month ago, we had laid siege across them, driving to the very heart of Radia. They still bore scars of that battle. Ash drifted on the wind, and yawning fissures and craters littered the earth. Thick, chaotic swirls of residual mana drifted in the wind, carrying whiffs of elemental magic.

All this met my gaze when my eyes slowly fluttered open. The sun was shining, cutting through the heavy haze of dust and smoke lingering over the battlefield in streaming sunbeams. A slow, steady heartbeat sounded in my heart, and warmth pressed against my cheek. I yawned, looking up, blinking slowly. The breeze felt nice, stroking my cheek with a cool hand that contrasted Luke’s warmth.

Luke glanced down, and as our eyes met, memories returned. The weeks spent in oblivion, Luke’s order to begin the final march, and my unwillingness to be parted from him. Somehow, that had led to me falling asleep in my arms, and even now, he carried me. How long had it been? At least a part of the night and through the whole morning. He was strong and comfortable, but I wasn’t the least bit surprised that I felt a little sore.

"Good morning, Xiv."

"Luke..." I mumbled, resting my cheek back against his chest. "Where...Where is everyone?"

"In Haven, I assume. About five hundred Fatesworn are traveling with my horde outside. We just reached the plains. Another hour, and Roann will be in view," he answered.

I yawned again, covering it with a shy hand. "Thank you, then. Um...you can put me down."

He chuckled. "I don’t know about that. You still haven’t learned to fly, have you?"

I froze, my stomach flipping as I suddenly realized why the breeze felt so nice. We hovered a few hundred feet over the Infernal Horde, watching as they spilled out of the canyons and valleys onto the plains. I held him a little tighter.

The number of demons was staggering. The church, led by Fate and the inquisitors, had destroyed Luke’s and Evla’s hordes. We had killed millions during Rash’alon’s uprising, and millions more had scattered. But despite all that, tens of millions remained. A horde unlike anything that had marched across Enusia before. A threat to the very foundations of mortal civilization.

It was terrifying, even more so because it wouldn’t be enough. I’d seen this battle play out enough times to know that. Numbers were meaningless against a god.

"Luke, do you ever get afraid?" I asked softly, feeling very small against his strength.

"We’ve seen each other’s minds enough times that I think you already know the answer."

I quietly chewed on my lip, tail swishing in empty air. He let out a sigh.

"Pain, suffering, death?" He shook his head. "I only fear that I might lose you, and worse, if it’s by my own hand."

I exhaled softly, nodding. "Me too. I love you, Luke. No matter what happens, no matter what you decide, that won’t ever change."

"Why? Did you see something?"

"Too many times. Just don’t give up, alright? Even if I die, or you do, we have to finish this."

"How encouraging," he said dryly.

"No, I’m serious, Luke. Even when, er, if I die, you must keep fighting. Everything depends on that. You cannot lose to Soltair, else...you just can’t."

He was silent, and I shivered, afraid he might protest. Or maybe that he would agree.

"You can’t die," he said finally. "I don’t think I could live with that. Please."

My heart softened at the lump of feeling in his words. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he pursed his lips, not quite meeting my eyes.

"I don’t want to die, but I’ll follow my path to the end," I murmured, caressing his cheek.

"Not without me."

We descended a short time later, landing in a small, burned-out husk of a village. The walls of Roann rose on the horizon, thick with mana and woodsmoke. Clouds had begun to gather in the north, forecasting snow and winds for the evening. Right in time for us to strike. Just perfect.

"Call your commanders and advisors. It’s time we prepare our final plans," Luke said to me as he let me down on ash-covered cobblestone.

The war council convened ten minutes later. We gathered in Bethiv’s command tent, surrounded by a Silent Star’s scrying ward. Apart from me, there was Commander Bethiv and his captains, Fyren standing in for the Fatesworn, the apostles, and the heroes. The combined auras of the powers attending made the air waver, as if it were underwater.

"This is it," Luke said, looking down at the illusory map that showed Roann and the Divine Throne. "This isn’t the first time we’ve initiated an assault here, so let’s skip the speeches and get into it. Jessia, do we have a final report on our enemies’ resources?"

"Hmm, not much different from last time you asked, though I did pin down the numbers to about one and a half million. Mostly soldiers from other nations that arrived before we began our invasion, but reinforcements have been trickling in over the past week or so. They’ve got a couple hundred skyships outfitted with mana cannons, and a bunch of eighth- and ninth-levels eager for blood," Jessia said, leaning against a tent post.

"And a very angry god," I murmured, shivering.

"Yes, there’s that. But I was just counting things we could actually beat," Jessia said.

"Then let’s start there. Xiviyah, I’ll leave the god up to you and your companions," Luke said, surveying Korra, Gayron, and the others. When I nodded, he continued, "Constance and..." His voice faltered for a second. "I was going to say Edrin, but...Evla, you’ll have to do it. Lead the horde in a direct assault on Roann. Engage the bulk of their army in a war of attrition. You don’t need to break through, just bleed them dry."

"Will do," Constance said.

Evla nodded. "Give us enough time, and we’ll kill every one of those bastards."

I bit my lip, staring at my hands clenched in my skirts. Many of those soldiers fought because of the Heart Crest. I knew there was nothing else we could do, but I hated their eagerness. Yet another reminder that between demons and gods, there was no good side. Only the one that remained.

"Firemane, you and the other demon lords will lead the rest of the hordes to the flanks, but only until their arbiters reveal themselves. I’ll be counting on you to deal with them."

Firemane stomped his hoof in acknowledgment.

"It will be done with pleasure," The demon lord of death said, grinning wide enough to show his curved fangs.

"Jessia, act where you can, but prioritize gathering information."

"Information? Isn’t this the final battle?" Korra asked.

"Our ultimate goal is to claim the World Shard," Luke said, looking around, making sure everyone was listening. "To do that, this war will follow three battlegrounds. First, we must break Roann and the alliance armies supporting the throne. Next, we will move to secure the gates and edifices of the Divine Throne itself. Only once we’ve broken their defenses can we descend into the catacombs and archives. It will likely be heavily fortified independently of the other defenses, and in such tight quarters, we’ll be able to take advantage of our only real strength--the horde."

"Fate will meet us in Roann," I said quietly.

"So that’s the real fight, then," Korra said. "Once we take care of him and capture the city, the rest should follow in short order."

"Perhaps, but either way, it’s our first objective," Luke said. "But Xiviyah, are you certain you wish to fight him there?"

A lump formed in my throat. Luke approached it delicately, but I knew what he was trying to say. The church had enslaved the entire population and deliberately kept them from fleeing as refugees. They had built a shield of innocence on their right arm, and in their left, carried a god as a sword.

"We don’t have a choice, so we’ll do what we must. No matter what happens, the Fatesworn will leave more survivors than the horde."

He gave me a pondering look. "I see. I won’t try and stop you, then."

"Makes life easier for the rest of us. I hate fighting up walls," Constance said.

"Oh, stop it. You can just smash them all. Stop pretending you’re still fourth level or something," Evla said, tossing her hair as she turned to me. "But Xiviyah, how exactly do you intend to face Fate? Last time you tried, he almost killed both you and Luke. Surely you’ve some plan to deal with him."

Her tone was flippant, but in her eyes, I sensed real worry. I smiled faintly, warmed by her care. "We can’t defeat him as we are now; we’re just not strong enough."

"Really encouraging," Constance muttered.

I ignored him. "Our only choice is to get stronger. Once the battle begins, I’m going to attempt to cast a spell. If I can do that, we might just have a chance."

"You? Attempt? I’ve never seen you fail a spell ever," Evla said.

"Not just any spell," Jessia said, standing a little taller, gazing at me curiously. "You’re talking ninth-level. You’re going to try to break through!"