V S Crusader Kings

Android XVII

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It’s hard to describe the point where Arcadia ends and ‘not Arcadia’ commences. Generations prior, Arcadia had been even more enormous, but collapse of its great empire and its emphasis on spreading its influence throughout the wider Crossroads had shifted the developmental focus from ‘sprawling monstrosity’ to ‘glittering, slightly less sprawling monstrosity.’

Even so, someone could grow old trying to casually walk the length of the city. That is, if they could determine at what point the sporadic farms, orchards, and suburban communities stopped being quasi-independent communities and started to be ‘ex-urban Arcadia’.

Thus, on this day, a collection of carriages trotted their way down what had once been, centuries ago, a major artery connecting Arcardia with an assortment of its colonies further into the Hinterlands. With its outward emphasis and self-sustaining economy, Arcadia had long-since stopped maintaining these once massive causeways, but even with the passage of time, such routes—once dozens of meters wide and rabid with traffic—had aged gracefully into still usable relics of the olden times.

The procession, originating from what was essentially a no-name kingdom deep in the Hinterlands, contained a Crown-Prince, a Viceroy, and a Grand Duchess, along with their expansive retinue and a handful of non-nobles representing businesses and religions. The purpose of their travel was multilayered, and in a sense, represented the laughably archaic nature of Erde Nona’s sprawling assortment of civilizations, tribes, and wayward souls.

Traveling from the Kingdom of Lodis-Merania, the royal retinue was venturing to Arcadia as part of an old ceremony wherein their fully independent kingdom reaffirmed its fealty to the Empire of Arcadia and its royal family. Given the fact that there were likely zero Arcadian officials at any tier of governance that gave two shits about Lodis, Merania, or the majority of the smaller city- and nation-states that existed across Erde, the venture was mostly pointless but doubled as an opportunity for the assorted personages to network within one of the most potent sites within the Crossroads.

As the assemblage neared the grotesque site of ‘Arcadia-proper’, one of its occupants broke the silence that had fallen over his particular carriage.

“I’ve seen bigger,” Seventeen-as-Gavin muttered as he leaned out from the carriage to take in the obscene cityscape that swallowed every inch of horizon that lay before the entourage.

“Bullshit,” Beatrix groaned as she rested her head back and continued to softly rub her temples.

“I have!” The cyborg declared as he diverted his gaze back inside their transit. “Central City was way sprawl-lier than this place!”

“Arcadia quite literally expands for nearly two-hundred thousand square kilometers, with a population measuring in the quintillions,” Jaina intoned almost robotically. “Unless you’ve visited a city that’s the size of an entire planet, I doubt you’ve experienced any place quite as massive, populous, or developed as the gleaming gem of Erde Nona.”

Seventeen had opened his mouth to interject as quickly as he could in the woman’s rambling, but her remarks about visiting city-sized planets had given him a strange pause. Had he?

“Whatever,” he finally muttered as he relaxed back into the chocobo-driven carriage. “I’m not going to argue with the librarian.”

Jaina rolled her eyes as she reached into her side bag and retrieved a rolled piece of parchment. “We have a busy slate of events over the next week,” she spoke softly as she scanned the list of items that she had already memorized days prior. “We’re meeting wi—”

“Pass,” Seventeen mumbled as he closed his eyes. “I don’t need a bedtime story.”

The mage scowled once more before turning to Beatrix, perhaps in an effort to enlist the woman in instilling their partner with some sense of duty. Instead of that, Jaina found that her wife was dead asleep. “Oh, for the love of …”
 

Beatrix III

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Four years. Four years had passed since Beatrix Zulenka had resurrected from her execution within the city of Jad. Jaina Proudmoore had been so happy to have her back that within the week she proposed and later that year the two were married in a big ceremony in the Kingdom of Lodis. Beatrix did everything to make sure the wedding was the happiest moment in Jaina’s life. The redhead knew that Vladimir would be happy with how much she had grown over the years. The Mistress had gotten the Zulenka coat of arms tattooed on one of her biceps. On her opposite arm she had put her new family crest which she had presented to Jaina as a wedding gift. The mysterious hooded figure continued to contact the blood mage over the years. In the span of time since her vision she had found and studied two of the three blood magic tomes that she had been directed to. Further research revealed the man guiding her to be Carth Forleizen, a Tevinter Imperium blood mage of myth. With practice and the guidance of both her wife and Carth, Beatrix took control of the untapped power she had been granted and reignited the rumor mill about her persona, the Sanguine Phoenix. The Kingdom of Lodis didn’t take a stance against Beatrix, preferring to keep the hero and her immense power aligned with them.

Just about a year after her wedding, Beatrix was approached by a man in his late eighties named Toma Zulenka. Despite his age, Toma looked no older than twenty-five and quickly proved that he could outclass Beatrix on the battlefield in every way. He revealed that he was Vladimir’s father and head of House Zulenka. Having lived off world for most of his life, Toma had only just recently found out that his son had died and that his widow was still using his name. Zulenka senior demanded that if Beatrix were to keep using the family name that she be properly trained. He explained that while his son was more than capable, he was still very inexperienced nor was he a teacher. Under the tutelage of Toma, Beatrix was broken down and rebuilt into a Zulenkan warrior over the course of a year. Before his eventual death, her father-in law added her to his will, leaving the Mistress his sizeable estate on Cevanti as well as a family contact inside the Kingdom of Palatinus.

On the third anniversary of their wedding Jaina surprised Beatrix with a smart phone from Cytokine Industries she had had shipped in from off world. The couple had gotten a matching pair with each other’s name engraved on one another’s phone. They could track each other and keep in touch regardless of where they both were.

***​

With a wide yawn, Beatrix stepped out of their carriage after Jaina dressed in a black pantsuit. The redhead pulled her white gloves tight and closed the carriage door as Stephen exited. The redhead pulled a pair of clip-on sunglasses from her inner pocket and clipped them to the bridge of her nose.

“Who are we meeting with again, love?” Beatrix asked, sinking her hands into her pants pockets, the gentle wind blowing through her hair.

“Duke Asnabel Birall. I’ve been corresponding with him for the past few weeks. He has a very large levy that he expressed interest in letting us command to combat the Unmaking on Cevanti. Trade has suffered since the siege of the capital, Markov.”

As they climbed up the steps to the state house Jaina continued, “Our mission would be to secure Markov and the area around it. My contact within Cytokine Industries reports that the company is rolling out an air coverage package that should provide much needed combat air support for the ground forces. We’d be making sure that goes smoothly and aiding the bulk of the Markov forces as they take the fight to the Fade.”

Beatrix stopped for a moment. “Fade?”

“I really wish you’d read the reports I give you. The Fade is the entity that sieged Markov. It is missing in action, and it is priority one that it be dealt with.”

“How is an army from Arcadia going to go toe to toe with…future tech?” Beatrix asked, turning around to face her wife, backpedaling up each step.

“How are we going to handle it? Erde and Cevanti have very different ways of waging war.”

Jaina brushed hair from her face and smiled. “We’d be working under Palaxia and Thelonious Rex of the The Guild. They’re a more old-fashioned branch of Markov consisting of magic users. I was an advisor to Palaxia for a few years. Plus, the army Duke Birall has command of has been trained by both Arcadia and Cytokine Industries. They’re capable of using modern and classical equipment. I figure it would take us like…a week to get familiar with everything.” Jaina laughed.

“Especially with how apt you two are with killing people.”

“Look. It just happens, okay? They end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Can’t blow our cover, y’know?” Seventeen said in defense of his actions.

Beatrix cackled. “Yes. You blast first ask later that’s for sure.”

“Coming from a woman who wades into battle drunk and makes people explode.” Seventeen shot back.

“Shush. We’re approaching the door.” Jaina silenced both and lifted her dress, proceeding ahead to the doorman.

“Grand Duchess Beatrix Zulenka of the North Marches and Crown Prince Gavin Atrius of Lodis are here to meet with Duke Birall.”

While they were meeting the duke to discuss military matters, it was only a tertiary reason for their visit. Later that day they were going to stop by the Arcadian palace to pay tribute and reaffirm their loyalty to the crown.

“Yes, of course. They’re expected. Follow the hall to the right to the sitting room.” The butler held open the door and ushered the three guests into the giant manor.

Beatrix removed her sunglasses and slid them into her pocket. She normally hated dressing up, but due to her recent training regimen and her diet she had lost body fat and toned her body quite a bit.

Clothing that fit always felt nice to wear.
 

Beatrix III

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The Previous Week

Beatrix had lost a good amount of body fat since her training with Toma. She had replaced it with muscle much to Jaina’s delight. On more than one occasion had Jaina licked chocolate syrup off the Mistress’ abs. Something that pleased the sorceress greatly. Blondie was also enjoying Beatrix’s butt. With all the weight training she had been doing, the Mistress had gained quite a bit of a backside. Something Jaina enjoyed mentioning whenever she could.

The Mistress snapped out of her thoughts as her training partner thwacked her in the legs and simultaneously used the quarterstaff to topple the redhead to the ground.

“Something wrong, ma’am?”

Beatrix shook her head and grabbed hold of her weapon, hopping up to her feet.

“Again!”

The two of them traded blows, their weapons knocking against one another before Beatrix disarmed her partner and planted a kick square to his chest toppling him out of the fighting ring. The Mistress twirled both quarter staves before planting them into the ground.

“Get up, Markham. Get up and I’ll flash you.” The Mistress had a wicked grin on her face.

Alec von Markham. A rich city boy through and through. Beatrix could give him credit, he knew how to handle himself, but he was no soldier. Outside of a bar fight he’d be killed. Alec sat up and wiped the dirt from his face.

“Halfway doesn’t count.”

A letter had arrived just over a week ago addressed to Beatrix. Her contact on Cevanti that Toma had told her about sent word that she would be receiving a package to protect. Little did she know that this package was a person. A person very important to the history of Cevanti. Her contact swore both her and Jaina to secrecy and asked that they look after him. Included in the message was a data chip that Proudmoore had to decrypt and read. Alec was a clone from a very prominent family from before The End and Aria T’Loak was looking for him. This contact had requested that Beatrix and Jaina look after him until a safe house could be established within the city of Uruk on Mesa Roja. Somewhere Beatrix didn’t know existed until she had read it in the letter.

The redhead watched as Alec climbed to his feet.

“Too slow. No boobs for you.” She said with a laugh, tossing the quarterstaff to him.

Alec was twenty. He had spent his entire life as a rich boy in Arcadia.

“Again.”

Alec came at Beatrix who effortless parried and redirected his strike to the left. Shifting her grasp on the stave she brought the other end up to hit him square in the jaw forcing the young man to stumble backward. With a sigh he spit blood onto the ground and threw down his weapon which forced Beatrix to furrow her brow.

“I don’t see the point in this, ma’am. Why can’t I just spend my time at the bar? I just want to relax. Why are you training me?”

“So you’ll be ready!” Beatrix snapped. “You’re a wanted man, Alec. You got yourself discovered in Arcadia! You’re lucky I was able to cover your tracks. You won’t be lucky a second time.”

“But what am I supposed to be ready for?”

“Only you can answer that when the time is right. Now pick up your weapon and come at me.”

Markham picked up his stave and readied himself.

“One more thing. If I catch you peeping on Jaina again, I’ll claim the bounty on your head myself.”

“How di—I never.”

“Lie to me again. I dare you.” Beatrix looked as stern as she could. “I am a veteran assassin. You’ll never see or hear me coming. If you must have a female partner, there is a perfectly good whore house on the other of the city. Mrs. Proudmoore is my territory and mine alone. Are we clear?”

Alec swallowed nervously. “Crystal.”

“Good!” Beatrix twirled her stave and broke into a dead sprint at Alec who barely had enough time to get his weapon in front of him.

The man deflected her first blow, but Beatrix spun on her heels and swept his feet out from under him, smacking the wooden pole into his chest forcing him to cough.

“Still at it are we?” Proudmoore said as she approached the dueling ring.

“Just finishing. Remember what we talked about, aye?” The Mistress said, pointing her weapon at the young man.

“Yes ma’am.” He said, before limping away to find fresh clothes and some food.

Beatrix made her way over to Proudmoore and wrapped her arms around the sorceress’ waist pulling her close for a much-needed kiss. The Mistress kissed Jaina’s lips, biting playfully at her bottom lip. The redhead ran her hand up Jaina’s back, plunging her tongue into the blond’s mouth. The sorceress moaned slightly before pulling away.

“God, I love it when you kiss me.” Miss Proudmoore whispered breathily into her lover’s ear.

Beatrix swept the sorceress off her feet and held her in her arms.

“What’s on the agenda tonight, love?” The Mistress said with a wide smile.

“I was hoping we could spend the evening together. We’ve been so busy…”

“So, date night with gratuitous amounts of sex?” Beatrix said with a giggle.

Jaina’s face became red. She tried to speak but no words came out. Eventually she just nodded repeatedly, strands of her hair flowing down in front of her face.

Beatrix kissed her wife on the nose. “The safe word is blueberries, right?”

Jaina nodded and responded with an audible, “Mhm!”

“I was thinking I could finally show you how to do eyeliner too!” The sorceress said as Beatrix let her down.

“I’m game. I’ve never been good with that shit anyway.” The Mistress scratched her torso and picked up both quarter staves.

“Meet you in our room around 9? I’ll bring dinner.” Jaina asked as she headed back towards the castle corridor.

“Sounds like a plan, love.”

The Mistress sighed as she put both weapons in their holder by the wall. Next week was their trip to Arcadia and after that it was looking like they’d be marching off to war. Alec’s arrival couldn’t have come at a more complicated time. She needed to train him as best she could before any of that happened, but the man was problematic. Besides being twenty and driven entirely by his need to fuck, his previous arrangement within Arcadia catered to his every whim. Things were different now. His need to party, drink, and to fuck is what broke his cover. He was a liability and if the request hadn’t come from Toma’s contact she might have just slit his throat and dumped him in the sewer.

She still might.
 

Android XVII

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Late January, 2019

“This is the list?” King Raynard replied as he started down the lengthy scroll of parchment that had been meticulously crafted for him by Jaina.

“Yes,” the sorceress replied. “This is an exhaustive list of everyone within the upper- and middle-echelons of court with connections to the Idrisids, Meranians, or some fourth party.” Jaina paused softly as she felt the smirk of Seventeen boring down at her. “There were a number of… corrupt religious figures, both within your ranks and as ‘outside forces’ conspiring against the Kingdom of Lodis as a whole.”

Seventeen leaned closer to Beatrix. “She’s talkin’ about the pedo priests.”

Jaina tried to wither her companion with her patented side-eye, but that simply made him giggle all the more as the king reviewed the list.

“This is… truly a harrowing document, Ms. Proudmoore,” King Reynard muttered as he glanced up from the parchment. The old man had the stain of wetness in the corners of his eyes as he continued to process the enormity of the situation. “Many of these listed individuals are not only leading figures in the city, but there are a handful who were friends or acquaintances of my family and I throughout the years.”

While she sometimes lacked what Seventeen would call ‘the human element’ needed in these types of conversations, Jaina displayed some rare tact in this particular moment. “I have copies and originals of all the corroborating documents. Invoices, correspondence, secret shifting of estate ownership and levy dues. I understand that you may desire to do your own research, but I assure you that I have been meticulous in this process.”

The king simply shook his head. “I trust you, Ms. Proudmoore. Even our resident librarians and archivists could learn a thing or two from working alongside you.”

Seventeen used his elbow to jab Beatrix in the ribs. “Your woman’s a nerd,” he whispered in a tone he knew the old king’s ears would never hear, even if Jaina once more tried to grind him into paste with her stare.

“I will prepare the necessary documents,” King Raynard spoke softly as he rolled the scroll up and slipped it into the leather messenger tube. “Speed will be of the utmost importance in this endeavor. Speed and, regrettably… subterfuge. I will coordinate with the castle guards to ‘collect’ the necessary individuals who reside within the complex.” His eyes moved to Seventeen and Beatrix, who now stood with the faintest of smiles upon their face. “I trust that you all have some type of… agenda?”

Jaina continued to be the speaker for the trio. “Roughly eighty percent of that list is present within Lodis tonight. Our work will be done by the end of the night, King.”

“I will contact the loyal members of the town and castle guard to inform them of your extracurricular activities, but you may be forced into confrontations with unknowing guardsman. I trust that you will all try to enact this sad agenda with as little collateral damage as possible. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” all three replied.

“Good,” King Reynard said as he turned to stare at Seventeen-as-Gavin. “Sometime in the near future, once this grim business is done, you and I will need to have a lengthy discussion about the succession.”

“Of course,” the guised cyborg replied as he bowed humbly to his not-illegitimate father.

“Then I wish you all adieu, and we will speak in the morning.”

***​

Five hours later.

Seventeen had nearly finished his list. Up ahead, the church of Lodis loomed like the giant stone edifice it was. By no means a grand chapel or comparable to some of the previous houses of worship he had visited in this region, the church of Lodis was nevertheless an impressive structure.

Garbed in heavy black clothes, the cyborg made his way up to the front doors and pushed them open just enough for him to slip through. Near sunset, the trio had gone on a quick tour of a few important districts of the city, and Seventeen had casually blown out the locking mechanism. They rarely locked the big doors anyway, but Jaina had wanted them to take no chances.

Inside the main room of the church, Seventeen took a brief moment to roll out some tense muscles in his shoulder and give his back and arms a gentle stretch. The last few hours had been stressful, but the cause was less so the graphic violence and more so Jaina’s strict timetables. As meticulous as always, she had designed a whole gruesome route for the three of them throughout the city’s various districts.

Seventeen’s murder map concluded here, at the church of Lodis. In his wake, he left about two dozen dead men and women who had aided, and abetted various causes aligned against the interests of the Kingdom of Lodis. For the most part, the raven-haired warrior had infiltrated, executed, and evacuated the locations. Yes, he loved to fight. Yes, he loved nothing more than to blow shit up or cause assorted carnage. Unfortunately, something about this whole operation felt dirty, even though everyone they were targeting was guilty of some assorted crime against the state.

“Assassination’s just not my cup of tea,” he whispered to himself as he took off his cloak and tossed the blood-soaked garment onto a pew. The remark was ironic, given his entire existence had begun as an effort to turn a boy into a cybernetic killing machine, but as they always say: the past is the past.

The cloak dripped onto the floor of the church. Seventeen winced. He recalled a number of people who he had failed to get the drop on, and while they hadn’t really managed to lash out at him or injury him, they had nevertheless been very messy when they finally went down. The cyborg pulled out his smaller version of the list of names and verified with a frown that the janitor for the church was not on his list.

I’ll make sure to make a donation.

As he strode down the pews, Seventeen paid a cursory glance to the artwork that adorned the walls and roof of the structure. Between looking for Beatrix and espionage work over the last few months, he'd seen a number of churches, but this one had a particularly morose iconography. Yes, Lodis had accepted them, but that didn't mean that the city-state's culture was something to be jealous of in any stretch of the word.

"Taciturn," Seventeen muttered. Yes, that was a splendid way to encapsulate the general vibes within Lodis and its many social circles.

As the cyborg continue to mull the thought while meanding down the central aisle, he was joined from one of the connecting rooms by an wizened old figure. "Can I help you, young man? I believe our doors are usually closed at this hour of night."

"Father Jeremiah?" Seventeen inquired as he turned to look at the priest.

"That is I, my child."

"Oh, great," the machine-hybrid replied before sending a bolt of ki through the man's chest. The impact threw the priest back through the door and into the back rooms of the little church. "That was easy enough."

Retrieving his cell phone, Seventeen verified the time and smiled faintly into the semi-reflective surface of the device. "Five gold coins say I finished first."

Had Beatrix been around, she likely would have had a prime rebuttal for such an easy layup, but since the blood magus was disembowling a group of corrupt businessmen with ties to human trafficking, Seventeen's choice of words went un-mocked as the raven-haired man sauntered out of the church.

When the sun rose above Lodis a few hours later, there was an unnaturally thick veil of silence,even as businesses were supposed to be opening for the start of the week. Whispers had already started to spread between households in the pre-dawn hours. Stories of strange noises in neigbhors houses or a strange commotion in the alleys behind shared housing structures. The sun started to cast light upon the corpses left to lie in dried pools of blood, and as people slowly worked their way from their homes, all took note of the tags left on the bodies.

"Traitor".

Months later, that night would be firmly entrenched in the zeitgeist of the Lodian people. It would go by a number of names when mentioned in hushed conversations. For their part, the trio rarely mentioned their grim work that night. By the time he had slipped back into his living quarters in the castle, Seventeen had seemingly burned through whatever magical cocktail of booze, adrenaline, and quasi-youthful stupidity which had carried him through his list.

Having left the coat at the church, he kicked off his boots and shed the remainder of his clothes before collapsing onto the bed. Yes, they had purged Lodis of countless vipers. Yes, they had secured the safety of the city-state for its thousands of other inhabitants. Unfortunately, that didn't make the dirty business any more enjoyable or uplifting, and as he drifted into a fitful slumber, Seventeen was certain he'd likely see more of those very same vipers throughout his dreamscape.
 

Beatrix III

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Beatrix admired Jaina as the sorceress led them down the corridor towards the sitting room. A smile formed on the Mistress’ face. All time seem to slow down in the moment. They had been married for a few years now and Beatrix knew they had many more to come. Jaina was everything to the blood mage. Their relationship had evolved so much over time. The group arrived in the sitting room only to be immediately greeted by one of the duke’s aids.

“Duke Lukische is ready to see you.”

Jaina shot a cursory glance at her two companions. “Excellent, thank you!”

She beckoned to them both and the trio entered the duke’s office.

“Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable.” He said from behind his giant mahogany desk.

The desk was littered with papers and personal effects. As Jaina took a seat closest to the desk, Beatrix and Seventeen took their place to the left side of the room in the adjacent chairs. Duke Lukische hadn’t raised his head from the various papers he was examining. There was an awkward silence before he broke the tension.

“You three have made quite a name for yourself out in the Hinterlands.”

“Only good things I hope.” Jaina said with a smile.

“Yes, of course. You liberated Lodis from internal corruption, rescued the crown prince, and subjugated Merania.” The duke shuffled various papers on his desk, looking up at the three compatriots sitting in his office.

“Now I’m told you’d like the support of my levies in your next goal. As you may well know there has been zero information going in or coming out of Idrisid territory. No one has any idea what they’re up to because anyone we send…never returns.”

Duke Lukische took a pipe from his drawer along with a little wooden container and began packing tobacco into his smoking implement.

Beatrix was the first one to speak up. “We figure an armed response is necessary.”

“What brings you to that conclusion, Mrs. Zulenka.” Their host asked in reply.

Jaina looked to her wife with a slight look of concern on her face.

The Mistress stood and approached the desk, withdrawing a map from within her suit jacket. Unfolding it she placed it on the desk for the duke to see.

“I managed to scout around Castle Eundel using the cover of night and what I found isn’t very good. All three villages are completely abandoned with zero sign of the villagers.” Beatrix tapped three distinct circled areas on the map.

“There is zero light coming from the castle and its surrounding areas at night. I found two Meranian scouts, three Lodis scouts, and several from Arcadia. They were all dead, having been ripped apart in various ways. The only identifier had been the documents they had left on them. Whoever killed them is either foolish or they simply didn’t care if we eventually recovered the notes.”

The duke puffed on his pipe and sat back in his chair, enthralled in what he was being told.

Jaina piped in this time. “The records from each of the scouts were badly weathered, but we managed to piece together some information. The villagers have been ritualistically sacrificed to summon what one scout called a parademon. The Arcadian scout had managed to confirm that an Unmaking presence was in the area, but unable to find the ritual site.”

Seventeen spoke up next. “If the Idrisids have truly fallen to the Unmaking it is very important that we eradicate them from the Hinterlands. An unmaking presence threatens all of Erde. We’ve all read the reports about Governmorne, the siege of Markov on Cevanti, and the incident on Opealon. No one is safe from this threat.”

“I know that. You know that. Arcadia does not agree with that sentiment. They believe that the Unmaking is some distant problem that’ll never reach the doorsteps of the capital.” The duke replied.

“We both know that’s a load of shit.” Beatrix said, furrowing her brow.

“Yes, that is why I’ve agreed to lend you two hundred of my finest soldiers. You’re to forget your previous inclination at helping Cevanti. You’re needed here. I’ll give you those two hundred troops along with the siege equipment and engineers to man them. Take Lodis’ bolstered military and march on Idrisid territory and wipe out whatever Unmaking threat is there.”

The duke puffed on his pipe and sat up. “The crown may not want to accept the Unmaking as a threat just yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit here and wait for them to get to our doorstep! I’ll have your soldiers marching towards Lodis by the end of the day. Be sure to notify the King that he’ll need to house and feed an additional retainer of men.”

With that said the duke stood up and extended his hand. Beatrix got to her feet and shook the man’s hand.

“Get this done, Zulenka. Get this done and we’ll find a place for you three in the capital. Arbiter knows having you around would benefit us all.”

Beatrix bowed low as the door behind them opened.

“See them to their carriage, Miss Darcy. Will you?”

Jaina and Seventeen got to their feet and made for the door.

“Oh, and Phoenix…”

The Mistress turned around to face the duke once more, one eyebrow raised.

“Keep me informed.”

Beatrix gave a thumbs up before turning around to continue out the door with her compatriots. They were led down the hall towards the front door of the mansion. As they passed one of the guest bathrooms, Beatrix tugged on Jaina’s hand.

“Meet us by the carriage, Stephen. Jaina needs to touch up my eyeliner.”

The Android gave a brief wave of his hand in acknowledgement and continued towards the entrance, his two constituents entering the guest bath. Beatrix gently pushed Jaina through the door and closed it behind them, locking it.

“Beatrix, I don- augh,” Jaina gasped as the Mistress grabbed her by the throat and pushed her up against the wall.

The redhead tightened her grip, her other hand firmly grasping one of the sorceress’ breasts. Beatrix knew what she was doing, and she knew that unless Jaina uttered the safe word, she would continue. The blood mage pulled at the ties on Jaina’s dress, pulling down her top to expose her bosom.

“Beatrix…stop.”

The redhead squeezed her hand around the sorceress’ neck before gently placing her lips to one of the blonds’ nipples. Proudmoore began to turn red in the face. She choked for air. Releasing the woman from her grip, Beatrix took her lovers jaw in her fingers and raised her face, pressing their lips together. Jaina wrapped her arms around the redhead and pulled her in closer. They kissed each other passionately for a solid minute before Beatrix pulled away, nibbling on her wife’s bottom lip. She carefully pulled the now flustered sorceress’ dress up over her boobs and began redoing the delicate lace.

“What if we had gotten caught?” The blond asked, almost out of breath.

Beatrix pressed a finger to the woman’s lips and shrugged. She pinned Jaina against the wall once more and began kissing her neck, biting it playfully.

“I needed this. I need you. I always need you.” She whispered breathily into the sorceress’ ear.

Pulling away she adjusted her suit jacket and let Jaina fix herself and her dress. Moving to the door the redhead unlocked it and, taking her wife by the hand, led her out into the hall towards the front to meet Stephen.

She is my everything.
 

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Early February, 2019

Seventeen had been asleep in one of Lodis’ two inns when he heard the sound of the commotion start to flood in through the open-air window of his small room. While he wasn’t quite sure if what he felt was a hangover or simply still being fully drunk, he managed to stumble his way over and get an eye on what was unfolding in the streets.

From a first glance, it looked like a drunken scuffle between a few patrons of the downstairs pub. That is, until he realized that one of the people on the ground was a guardsman, and said keeper of the peace was bleeding out of a wound in his neck.

“We shall burn it all down!” Someone screamed as what was now clearly a drunken mob hosted their improvised weaponry and chanted in unison.

The cyborg’s eyes went wide when he saw the group start to ignite bottles of booze or oil and start hurtling them into adjacent structures. A solitary ‘fuck’ escaped Seventeen’s lips as someone pitched around and chucked a bottle through the first-floor window of the pub. Almost immediately, the young man felt the ripple of the explosion and the heat of the nascent flames as they likely consumed whatever else was high enough proof to catch fire.

Trying to do his best to scan the crowd for a few moments, Seventeen caught sight of a few people who he recognized from Jaina’s sketches. There were three of them, and they were all individuals of interest from her list. Supposedly, two of them had been out of town, and a third had simply vanished shortly before the trio set out on their grim work.

There were about fourteen people left unaccounted for on that list… If this was what Seventeen assumed it was than they were going to have issues throughout the rest of the night.

Reaching for his phone as the heat continued to rise through the floorboards, the cyborg hammered out a simple message into the group chat he shared with Beatrix and Jaina.

SOS – MISSING KNIVES BACK.

They would understand the message, so he jammed the phone into one of his pockets and crashed his way through the door. Out in the hallway, he found a cluster of life as people were rushing back from the direction of the stairs that connected to the first floor.

“What’s the matter?” Seventeen-as-Commoner shouted as he tried to get someone to tell him.

“The stairs are blocked off by the flames!” They shrieked into his face. “We shall perish!”

The cyborg frowned as he noticed people starting to leap out the windows. “I can clear a path!” He shouted over the chaos as he gently shoved his way to the top of the stairs. From here, he had a clear view of the raging inferno as its blaze chewed against the wooden building. Holding out his hands, Seventeen took a moment to center himself before leashing a beam of ki that roared down through the stairwell and out through the front façade of the structure. Turning around, he waved to the others as he pointed to the stairs themselves. “Run, before these things collapse!”

By this point, there was only a handful of people who hadn’t tried to windows, so there was little risk involved as they went screaming down the blackened stairwell and out to the streets. Seventeen followed in their wake but rather than running home to family, friends, or perhaps just a damp couch, he turned in the direction of the mob. They hadn’t gotten far, and while they had managed to destroy about a half dozen buildings and stab a few more guards and loyal citizens, he would make sure this particular group didn’t make it to the end of the block.

Bzzzt.

Reaching swiftly into his pocket, Seventeen glanced down at the screen of the flip phone.

“J will safeguard the castle. B will sweep east. Keep west, S. Be safe.”

For her part, Jaina had known that not everyone would be caught in the initial swoop of the ‘net’ (as she called it). Before the plan had even made itself to the king’s metaphorical desk, the sorceress had included contingencies like this one, which entailed some of the surviving traitors ‘going nuclear’ (Seventeen’s turn of phrase).

Raising up ahead, Seventeen reached behind his back and drew the Power Sword from its over-the-shoulder scabbard. “Hey!” He shouted to the mob.

One of the leaders of the mob stepped through and lifted his torch to get a better look at the approaching peasant. “Do you seek to join us in laying low the tyranny of the monarchy?”

In response, Seventeen hurtled the Power Sword and buried it into the man’s sternum.

“Nah.” The machine-hybrid replied. “But two of you are wanted criminals with connections to crime syndicates in Upper Laconia. Everyone else is free to disperse and pass this off as a night off too much drinking. Those two know who they are, and it is time for them to pay for their crimes.”

The mob surged forward.

“Sorry, Jaina,” Seventeen muttered as he telekinetically summoned the Power Sword back into his hands. “I tried to do it your way.”

Three Hours later…

Stumbling up through the little stairwell that led to the private chambers that the three had been using to meet with the king and other ‘inner circle’ members over the last few weeks, Seventeen opened the door with his shoulder and immediately collapsed into the nearest seat.

“You look like absolute hell,” Beatrix muttered. The blood magus was, much like her cybernetic companion, still dressed in her street clothes. A cursory glanced revealed that she had likewise seen her fair share of misery tonight.

“I ran into Bivens.”

Jaina, who had been talking to the king, immediately diverted her attention to Seventeen, whose clothes were tattered and scorched. “The rogue magus?”

“No, the other Bivens, Jaina.”

“Where was he?”

“In the streets,” Seventeen groaned as he lifted his foot up to his knee and started to untie his frayed, half-melted boot. “Like the others, he had a small mob with him. I’m not sure if they were paid mercenaries, but they sure didn’t fight like drunken city folk. He either enchanted them, or they were expensive mercenaries masking as rabble, because they sure as hell shrugged off more than they should.”

Jaina, who had softly asked for a moment away from King Reynard, sat down across from Seventeen. “Did you take him alive?”

Out of all the people on the list, Jaina had wanted ‘Bivens’ to be taken alive.

Seventeen, without answering the question, reached into his ravaged cloak and retrieved a rucksack that he tossed over to his companion. “He had that on his person.” During the initial ‘net’, Jaina had been upset for hours over finding Bivens house emptied out. The sorceress kept that frown on her face as she opened the sack and produced a tome and a small yet beautiful ring. Her eyes and expression seemed to shift a little as she stared down at the little piece of jewelry.

“You good?” Seventeen muttered.

“It’s just strange to see someone from the Kirin Tor here,” she spoke softly as she rifled through the handful of odds and ends in the satchel. She glanced over to Beatrix. “I told you before that I was an apprentice for the Kirin Tor?”

“Yes,” Beatrix replied. It was clear that the blood magus didn’t know how to react to the situation, because despite how well she thought she knew Jaina, this was an altogether stranger air than she had witnessed. Was that sadness in Jaina’s eyes? Frustration? Longing? Beatrix couldn’t piece it out, and for the first time since she’d been revived, she felt some mild unease. “Are you… all right?” She finally whispered as she reached out and rested a hand on Jaina’s thigh.

Jaina nodded, and there was no indication of tears in her eyes as she set the sack down next to her. “I don’t recall the rolls of apprentices and students including anyone by the name of Bivens, so I was just… curious about it.” She frowned. “Is he an outsider, like us?” She added as she gestured to herself and Seventeen. “Is he from some alternate reality? Or…”

The cyborg leaned forward. “You think this organization exists here in the Crossroads?”

The blonde wizard shrugged her shoulders. “if it did, I’m not sure it would even be the same Kirin Tor that I remembered, but that ring?” She muttered. “It’s a genuine signet ring… they’re enchanted with a particular magic.”

“You think someone from your old school is here on Erde training wizards in secret?” Seventeen asked.

“Maybe,” the woman answered. “But for what end?”
 

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Previously on Friends

Lodis had decided to march on the Kingdom of Merania. Jaina had been chosen as one of the chief strategists for the war. Beatrix had been conscripted into being a general. The Lodis army had been intercepted by a Meranian legion and forced to stop. The enemy force was just over ten thousand strong, which was uncomfortably close to the size of the main force that Lodis could field. The Mistress had to be coerced into wearing field plate for the march towards Merania territory. She hadn’t worn plate since her time in the Arcadian legion. She pulled on her cuirass and tried to adjust her bosom beneath the tight clothing. Despite not having the biggest boobs, Jaina had helped Beatrix bind her chest so she could fit into the gambeson and into the chest plate. Despite several concerned parties she had chosen to forgo the helmet. As the Lodis army came to a halt on the wet grass fourteen miles east of the Meranian capital, Beatrix gave herself a onceover. She shifted the shield on her left arm and made sure her backup blade was securely sheathed on the underside. She settled her gaze on the enemy line and placed her dominant hand to the hilt of her longsword.

The sun was on its way into the sky this early in the morning. The Mistress had forgotten what it was like to wear full plate. She shifted her jaw and scanned the enemy line once more. Several horns blared from the opposite side. The clattering of soldiers and equipment filled the air as the enemy force marched into position. Jaina had acquired comms from Cevanti just for this occasion. Beatrix could communicate with the sorceress and Stephen on their own private radio channel. Tensions were growing with each passing second. The Mistress was unsure of who would charge first. Much to her dismay another horn pierced the momentary silence. The sound of hooves pounding the ground filled her ears. She looked right and then left. Merania had sent their cataphracts to the flanks. Another horn sounded and the main force started their charge. The troops around her looked to their general nervously, but Beatrix wore a grin as her eyes ignited with bright red energy.

“This is it gentlemen. Stay with me. Stay. With. Me.” she said sternly.

From the left and right flank of the Lodis army, blood began pouring out from between the ranks of the soldiers. The crimson liquid coagulated and shaped itself into heavy armored hoplite soldiers made completely of vitae. The two blood phalanx’s charged the oncoming cavalry. As soon as she was sure the last of her animated soldiers left their line, Beatrix drew her sword. This made everyone else around her do the same and soon the air was filled with steel leaving scabbards. The Mistress twirled her blade and looked back at her second-in command.

“With me, Masters.”

With a nod the man blew his horn and the entire Lodis army charged. Beatrix had gone over various battle tactics with the officers in the army so that it could be disseminated to the lower ranks. One big tip she had was to limit the charge to a steady jog…until you were right on the enemy. The trick was to save your strength for the final push into the enemy line, so you had more stamina to fight. It was something she had learned from Gavin while serving as his serjent.

The moment arrived and Beatrix dropped into a full sprint and placed her shield in front of her. She and everyone she was with collided with the enemy line. Beatrix blew through the two men in her way and drove her blade into the nearest enemy. Pushing him off she pushed forward with Masters behind her. The fighting was intense. It took a couple minutes, but eventually the bulk of both armies were locked in a brutal battle for the field. The cataphracts had been stopped cold allowing Beatrix to release the magic. Driving her blade into a young man trying to kill her she bathed in his blood and roared with bloodlust. A side of her she hoped Jaina would never get to see. Ripping her blade free she jumped to the rescue of her second-in command and drove her blade through the weak points on the armor of the man trying to kill Masters. Arrows began to fall from the sky from both sides.



The Mistress and her retinue had managed to punch into the center of the enemy force. They were struggling to stay afloat but they had a mission. Beatrix took a flag from one of her men and extended a collapsible quarter staff. Attaching the flag, she raised it into the air and waved it around.



“That’s the signal! Down fifteen. Left twenty. Range…four hundred!” Jaina shouted to the men under her command.

“All mortars open fire!”

The men on the field of battle were startled by the thunderous explosions coming from the Lodis supply line. Fire began to rain down upon the enemy soldiers around Beatrix. She placed a hand on Masters’ shoulder and proceeded back towards their own lines. Her unit carved their way through the enemy that was trying to overwhelm the tiring front line. The Mistress zeroed in on an enemy commander who was dispatching her soldiers with relative ease. Beatrix adjusted herself and reaffirmed her grip on the shield and sword she had before moving in. As the man was dealing a death blow, she slid under his strike and bashed her shield upward to knock him back. The commander recovered quickly and feinted away from the slash Beatrix had sent his way. She led with the tip of her sword making him bat it away. She kept her blade connected to his and redirected his weapon to her left. They stayed locked in the clinch staring each other down.

“You will die, blood mage!”

“You first!” The redhead replied, planting a boot to his chest and knocking them out of the clinch.

Beatrix’s eyes ignited with red energy as she charged the man she was fighting. Whoever he was, he was no slouch. He was able to cut down the spikes of blood she could produce from the saturated ground with ease.

“Your cheap tricks are well known in Merania, mage. You won’t beat me so easily like you did my predecessor.” He taunted.

With a disgruntled sigh, Beatrix broke through his guard and impaled her sword through his left leg. As he went to retaliate and drive his own sword into her neck the Mistress had already formed wicked looking claws on her right gauntlet. She gripped the man by the neck and squeezed ripping his throat away from his body. She discarded the chunk of flesh and grabbed the man’s spine ripping it away from his body. Beatrix let out a blood-soaked war cry as she lifted the man’s spine into the air causing her allied troops to rally to her and cheer with renewed morale.
 

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They had finally arrived back at Lodis amidst a late summer thunderstorm. The borrowed levies were busy making camp outside of the city along with the rest of the Lodis army. Seventeen had gone off to his quarters to handle some Gavin related things and to probably relax. Beatrix was desperately trying to do the same. It was dusk when she entered her bedroom. She had been cramped up in that carriage for nearly six hours. She would have preferred to ride Slepinir, but she needed to act a certain way now that she was a Duchess. The Mistress struck a match and lit the bedside oil lamp, turning the knob to brighten the room. Outside of her window the storm raged on, pelting the latticed glass of her window. Just as the Mistress had shed her wet clothing and chosen some comfortable evening attire Jaina entered the room soaking wet holding a lantern.

“You need to come with me.” She spoke, concern in her voice.

Beatrix easily read the tone and sighed. Throwing on a simple linen shirt and a pair of trousers the redhead slid her feet into her boots again and threw a black cloak around her body. Pulling the hood up she followed her wife down the steps at the end of the corridor and out into the rain. A pair of guards who had been waiting at the door accompanied them across the town square and to one of the only brothels the castle had. It was run by Madame Shaw, a woman who had become a friend to Beatrix. As a Duchess of Lodis it was expected of her to divert her sizable wealth to assist the citizens of the kingdom in some way. Beatrix felt that she should support the women of Lodis’ brothels. She made sizable donations and paid directly for medical assistance to the women who called the brothel their home. Madame Shaw had worked with Beatrix closely to make sure that everything went according to plan and that everyone got the help they needed.

Beatrix raised her lantern as they approached The Lighter Touch. Miss Shaw was waiting for them by the door. More guards were there along with a small detachment inside seeing to the needs of the women who appeared to be shaken by something. That’s when the realization came crashing down upon Beatrix’s head. Her eyes settled on Alec, who was cuffed and being held at sword point in the corner. Jaina lowered her hood and tried to speak, but the redhead held up a finger, telling her wife to remain quiet.

“Abby, what happened?” Beatrix said, pulling Miss Shaw aside.

“I know this young man is a charge of yours, Miss Zulenka.” Abigail started…

“What happened?” Beatrix set her lantern down and lowered her hood.

“I have reason to believe he raped and murdered three of my girls. I wouldn’t have thought it was him, but when Lexxa didn’t show up for work tonight, I sent a detachment to her house. Had they not stopped him I fear I may have lost another one of the girls. You know how tough their life is. They already struggle with the fear of being abused by patrons. To have it happen…” Miss Shaw trailed off.

Beatrix pinched the bridge of her nose. Toma had asked one thing of her before he died, that she keep Alec safe and away from the planet of Cevanti.

Jaina looked at her wife with concern.

He’s forced my hand old man.

“Sergeant!” Beatrix said sternly. “Bring him outside.”

“Yes mi’lady! Get up, asshole!” Sergeant Thorn gripped Alec by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet, pushing him out the front door passed Jaina and Madame Shaw.

“What were their names, Abby.”

Miss Shaw dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Julia, Rose, and Amelie.”

Beatrix pushed passed the two guards stationed by the door and entered the downpour once more. Sergeant Thorn gripped Alec by his clothing with one hand, his blade in the other.

“You move. You die.” He spat.

Alec was taller than Beatrix, but that didn’t stop her from planting a firm punch to his gut. He doubled over in pain which made Sergeant Thorn wrench him back to his feet.

“Get up!”

“When I told you to seek comfort in the town brothel did you misunderstand me? These people, my wife included, think that you’ve raped and killed three women. They caught you in the middle of assaulting a fourth. Are you sick? Do you need help? How could you possibly think it was, okay?”

“They’re just whores…”

This earned another strike from Beatrix, but this time she aimed for his ribs. As Alex coughed for air, Sergeant Thorn forced him to stand, gripping his blade in his free hand.

“Don’t act like you care, Beatrix. I know who you are. You’re just a hired assassin. A thug. Stop pretending to be a good person, because you’re not!” He spat at the Mistress’ feet.

“You’re a murderer just as I am.”

The Sergeant forced Alec to his knees and pressed his blade against the man’s throat.

Beatrix stared long and hard into Alec’s eyes. He was right. She had no place being a Duchess for Lodis, but that’s what they needed. The Mistress tried everyday to make amends for her past. It didn’t matter though, because when the cards were down. She was just a blood mage and a sell sword.

“You’re right.” The redhead said, adjusting her cloak.

“Wait a second…” Jaina tried to interject but was inevitably shushed.

Beatrix took a flask from one of the pockets in her cloak and unscrewed the cap. Tilting her head back she drank the whole thing and returned the container to its place.

“You’re a spoiled rich kid who thinks that because you have friends in high places you’re going to get away with things. The difference between me and the people who were previously taking care of you in Arcadia, is that I am indeed…a murderer.”

Beatrix manifested a spear of blood from under her cloak and drove it through Alec’s chest. Twisting the weapon, she drove it in further before placing a mud-covered boot to his shoulder. Pulling the weapon out he let the young man slink to the ground…dead.

“Sergeant. Please pike his head on the castle wall.”

Sergeant Thorn nodded before bending down and lifting Alec’s corpse over his shoulder, making his way into the night.

“Was that prudent?” Jaina asked as her wife said her goodbyes to Madame Shaw and told her it had been taken care of.

“Probably not. I am just a murderer after all.” Beatrix said with a grin as she began her walk back to their quarters.

“What about the promise to Toma?”

“From what the old man had told me, Alec was one of two siblings. If I must make it up to him, I’ll find the sister and protect her.”

Jaina went to speak again but found herself pinned against the wall of one of the many houses on the street. Beatrix gripped her wife’s-soaked garments and pushed against her, kissing her. Taking the sorceress by the hand she led the blond back the way they had come to their quarters.
 

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Beatrix pushed Jaina through the door of their quarters and with one foot shoved her over to the bed. The Mistress entered, immediately closing the door behind her and latching it’s several locks. By the time the sorceress turned around her wife was upon her. The redhead pulled the lace of Jaina’s corset away with her teeth, untying it. Color began to fill the blonds’ face as Beatrix freed her bosom from her rain-soaked garments. Zulenka pressed her lips to her wife’s neck, kissing her repeatedly, as if she couldn’t get enough. Proudmoore wrapped her arms around her lovers head as the redhead kissed down her collar and across her chest.

Pulling away the redhead threw off her cloak and was out of her shirt and pants in a matter of seconds. Jaina had begun to undress herself, now with assistance from her wife once more. The sorceress was taller than Beatrix, even more so when wearing heels. Zulenka was hyper focused on removing Jaina’s clothing when Proudmoore placed a hand to her chin and lifted her head to make eye contact. The two shared a passionate kiss that seemed to melt away the world around them. Jaina threw off her boots and slid out of her dress and robes now standing completely naked. In this moment she felt relieved she had taken the time to groom herself in the bath yesterday. Beatrix lifted the sorceress off the floor and wrapped her legs around her waist. They shared several more kisses, blondie wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck pulling her close.

It was about this time that Beatrix tossed her wife onto the bed and pushed her onto her back. Jaina let out an excited moan, helpless as her legs were wrapped around her lover’s head. She felt Beatrix slide her back further onto the bed…and just like that the sorceress was filled with pleasure. Jaina gripped the bed spread, her toes curling as the sensation washed over her. She couldn’t keep quiet anymore and let out an audible moan.

“Fuuuuck. Keep…doing that and…” The sorceress pulled the braid from her hair and shook her head letting it fall all around her.

Beatrix ran her fingers up and down Lady Proudmoore’s thighs in a playful motion. The sorceress let out a long-drawn-out moan, her legs twitching and pulling Beatrix in closer. Jaina could feel it begin to build. She began to sweat, her heart racing with excitement. Her wife was an absolute master at what she did. The Mistress could sense that her wife was getting close, her features pulling into a grin. Proudmoore felt herself melt into the bed as her orgasm washed over her. She was sure the servants could hear her through the door. Before it had even subsided Beatrix was climbing on top of her, straddling her waist.

Leaning down the Mistress pressed her lips to Jaina’s, both of their tongues playing tag. The redhead pulled away and licked her lips, keeping eye contact with her wife. The blood mage held out a single finger and showed it to her wife. It began to glow with soft blue magical energy.

“What is that for?” Proudmoore asked, nearly out of breath.

“Do you really think I hadn’t found some way to incorporate magic into the bedroom?” Beatrix replied with a wicked grin.

“Do you remember the agreed upon safe word?”

Jaina nodded nervously. The Mistress wrapped her fingers around blondies’ neck and leaned back to place her glowing finger between her legs. Beatrix tightened her grip as the sorceress responded to her magic with a low guttural moan.

She was just getting started…
 

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Jaina had been the first one to wake. The thunderstorm had passed, but the rain continued into the early morning. What little dreary light could poke through the overcast sky filtered in through the window and dimly lit the two women sharing a bed together. Beatrix was on her back, eyes closed, with an arm around her wife who had chosen to nestle herself against the Mistress’ stomach. Jaina moved her eyes along Beatrix’s scarred body, admiring the various injuries the woman had sustained during her life. Surprisingly there weren’t many around her bosom, Jaina found herself running her fingers along the smooth skin of her wife’s breasts. Her stomach was littered with scars, as were her arms and the skin along her collar up to her neck. Few areas on Beatrix’s body were free of some sort of scar. Jaina had become accustomed to favoring the places that were free of scars and kissing them for good luck.

The sorceress’ gaze made its way up to the face of her sleeping wife. Despite several scars on her face, Beatrix was very pretty. Jaina felt she could spend all morning just gazing at the woman she had married. Every time they had sex, Beatrix was the one in charge. She would make Miss Proudmoore cum until she couldn’t speak coherently or move a muscle. She would then carry her into bed and sleep with her in her arms. Jaina often wondered why the redhead never sought out her own pleasure in the same way. The sorceress would happily oblige any fantasy her wife had or any physical need she had. However, Beatrix never spoke of her own pleasure. Only of Jaina’s. The blond always found herself incapable of asking about it. She would always get nervous and fail to bring it up. This time she was going to succeed.

Jaina entwined her legs with Beatrix’s and nestled herself as close as she could, careful not to wake her up. The sorceress slid her hand between her wife’s legs, carefully pushing one leg aside. She watched intently for a reaction from her wife as her fingers played around. After a couple minutes Jaina began to worry that all she was doing was interrupting her wife’s slumber. She pulled her hand away, but before she could get it out from under the covers, she felt a gaze fall upon her.

Beatrix made eye contact with her wife before closing her eyes again. “Don’t stop. That…felt good.”

To be honest, Beatrix never really gave much thought to her own needs. She was so used to suppressing everything so she could function as a soldier. Jaina felt a wave of excitement wash over her as she watched the redhead bite her bottom lip. Beatrix swayed her hips with the motion of her wife’s fingers. The blond moved her face close to the woman stomach and brushed her lips across her skin playfully. She planted a series of kisses along her side and up along her right breast. The sorceress felt all her worry melt away as Beatrix took her right hand and moved it through her lover’s hair. Jaina knew her wife was enjoying this. There were physical tells. As the sorceress moved her thumb, the redhead finally let out a soft moan, her cheeks filled with color. The blond climbed out from under the covers a bit towards the Mistress’ head to nibble on her ear. She whispered titillating things to her wife which she knew would get her going. Beatrix wrapped her arm around Jaina’s head and pulled her in close as an orgasm washed over her body. The sorceress found the cute little noises her wife made while climaxing to be extremely cute and very hot. Jaina pulled her hand away, placing it flat on Beatrix’s chest as the blood mage caught her breath. The two shared a passionate kiss before settling back into the blankets on the bed.

“I love you more than anything, Jaina.” Beatrix said breathily, nuzzling her lovers head with her own.

“Have you ever though about having a child, love?” Blondie asked, her face smushed up against one of Beatrix’s boobs.

Without opening her eyes, the Mistress took one of her lovers’ hands and placed it off center just below her belly button. Jaina could feel the specific scar her wife had wanted her to feel.

“Gut shot with a serrated arrow tipped with acid-based poison. I think I was…17? I had to rip out the arrow lest I die…which took my lady bits with it. One of the few times before the blood magic where I narrowly avoided dying.”

Jaina squeezed her wife tight. “I’m sorry. That must have been horrific.”

“Not as horrific as the idea of bringing a child into my life…” She paused for a second to roll over and plunge her tongue into Jaina’s mouth.

It was the longest kiss in the world and just when it seemed like it wouldn’t end, Beatrix pulled away and smiled.

“Everyone has their limits and while I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself…I focus nearly all my energy into being your wife, your lover, and keeping you safe, Jaina Proudmoore. I don’t want anyone else in my life to take away from that.”

Blondie wrapped her arms around Beatrix and buried her face into her lovers’ breasts. Beatrix ran her fingers through Jaina’s hair, every now and again placing a gentle kiss upon her head.

“It might be selfish, but if there’s one thing I’m willing to take for myself. It’s that. I don’t want to share you, Proudmoore. I want you all to myself.”

The sorceress nodded without lifting her head, relying on her tightened hug to relay the message.
 

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The Drums of War

A detachment of city guard approached Beatrix while she was enjoying breakfast with Jaina. They had arrived with an urgent message from Sergeant Masters who was staying in the army encampment by the main gate. Both women took one last drink from their cups and followed the city guard to the armory. One of the guards explained that a cultist member had approached with an escort and had asked for her personally. It took a little under fifteen minutes for Beatrix to fully kit herself in her armor with all her weapons.

***​

Beatrix, with a hand on hilt of her blade, made her way towards the cultist standing in front of the city gate. She was accompanied by Jaina, Sergeant Masters, and a few of the city guard.

“Ah the blood mage arrives. Just like a good guard dog.”

The Mistress narrowed her eyes, giving the woman standing before her a once over. She was decked out in a full set of splint mail, a flowing purple cloak covering her shoulders and shrouding most of her body. Her hood was up hiding her face. Several weapons poked out from behind her cloak. From a cursory glance Beatrix knew that the woman standing before her was armed to the teeth.

“You may have rooted out our attempts to control the Kingdom of Lodis, but me and my…friends…have a gift for you.” The woman spoke.

“Send him forward.”

No. It was not possible.

Decked from head to toe in field plate, covered in a deep black cloak with a sword drawn at his side was Vladimir Zulenka making his way to the front. Beatrix felt the breath leave her lungs. Her eyes widened at the sight of her dead husband. He looked like nothing had ever happened to him. Jaina moved to her wife’s side just as the redhead took a step backward.

“It can’t be him. His body was destroyed by the plague. You know that.” The sorceress tried to reassure.

Vladimir made his way toward the front of the group of Cultists and stopped between the leader and Beatrix. His brow was furrowed, the look on his face one of hate. Jaina and Sergeant Masters moved to assist, but the Mistress threw out her arm and held them back. Beatrix clenched her jaw and took a step forward. Vlad twirled his blade around his body before bringing it out in front of him in both hands ready to defend.

“Look at the power of the Unmaking, Duchess. Your beloved could be with you once more. Only if you were to embrace Darkseid as your savior.” The lead cultist spoke.

“Join us, Bea. We can be together again.”

“Don’t listen to him, love! That isn’t your husband!”

Beatrix felt the sound of the world fade away as she stared at the man she had buried. Toma had taught her everything he knew, but Vladimir was still a formidable foe. To be honest she wasn’t sure she had what it took to beat him in single combat. There was only one way to find out.

Reaching behind her back the Mistress drew both of her elven blades and brandished them in front of her. Vladimir dropped into a full sprint, his weapon at his side.

“Get back!” Beatrix ordered before rushing to meet him.

The Mistress pushed off the ground with one of her legs and twirled clockwise bringing both of her blades down upon Vladimir. They connected with his sword with a loud clang. Beatrix landed on her feet and pushed against the strength of her dead husband. She pushed forward with her left blade and diverted his blade to the right. Side stepping his form she entered his guard and was poised to drive her blade into his heart. Vladimir drew a knife from his right side and went to plunge it downward into his ex-wife’s neck. Beatrix twirled her left blade in her hand and brought it to meet the incoming blade. She took her opportunity to send a kick to his chest, knocking him away from her.

“I see you’ve been practicing.”

“Stop. Toying. With. Her!”

The lead Cultist drew her sword and entered the battle alongside Vladimir. Beatrix could hear Toma’s words fill her head.

A true Zulenka can win any fight. Be it against one fighter or a thousand. You’ll be able to handle them all. The entire premise is to fight each opponent on terms that you’ve predetermined. You need to know how to counter moves that haven’t even happened yet.

Sergeant Masters drew his sword as the enemy cultist entered the battle, but he stopped to watch Beatrix weave her way between both her dead husband and the oncoming strike. Parrying a strike from Vladimir the Mistress feinted past a swing from the cultist bitch. Jaina watched with increasing concern. Sweeping her legs under the cultist the redhead dropped her to the ground. Rolling forward to avoid a downward slash from Vladimir, Beatrix committed into a handstand placing both of her feet to her husband’s chest kicking him back. Using the momentum gained from her kick the Mistress balanced on her one hand. Pushing off the ground she performed a graceful back flip to her feet. Bringing both of her blades upon the defending cultist she weaved her way through the woman’s guard just as Vladimir rejoined the fight.

With one quick cut the blood mage slit the throat of the cultist leader and dropped her to the ground. She gripped her neck as crimson liquid poured from between her fingers. Beatrix narrowed her eyes at Vladimir who had brought his blade out in front of him, holding it with both hands.

“You look nervous, husband.” The redhead said with a wicked grin.

Counter and move.
 

Beatrix III

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Beatrix gripped her longsword with both hands, tightening her grip through the sweat on her palms. The duel had lasted much longer than the redhead had expected. Vladimir had managed to disarm her forcing the Mistress to rely on the sword on her back. Both had damaged the other equally. No serious injuries had been sustained, but Beatrix would have a few new scars to remind her of this encounter. Vladimir struck again. Beatrix took a step back and raised her sword into a high guard, bringing her blade to deflect his strike. Vladimir pushed through struck Beatrix in the face with his gloved fist forcing the Mistress to stagger backward. She kicked off with her legs and checked him with her shoulder. Taking hold of his sword arm she pushed it aside and opened his guard so she could drive her blade into his sternum.

Forgive me.

Vladimir’s eyes widened as Beatrix’s sword pushed through his chest plate, through his chest and out the back. He dropped to his knees, making eye contact with his former wife. Beatrix let out a frustrated scream as she placed a foot to his shoulder, wrenching the blade free and with one fluid strike removing his head from his shoulders. Vladimir’s body fell forward as the Mistress took a couple steps back to avoid the pool of blood forming at her feet. Jaina and Henderson rushed over just in time to catch the blood mage as she fell backward, momentarily losing consciousness.

“Archers! Loose!” One of the sergeants shouted.

The readied soldiers on the wall above the gate let loose their volley and killed the remaining cultist entourage. Henderson gripped the Mistress by her chest harness and dragged her away from her husband’s corpse back towards the gate. Beatrix shook her head, her sweat covered hair sticking to her face. Jaina opened her bag and pulled out several silk bandages, applying them to the various lacerations her wife had received in the fight with her dead husband.

“I’m so sorry, love. It wasn’t him. I hope you know that.” The sorceress reassured.

The blond took her canteen and unscrewed the top. Placing it to Beatrix’s lips she tilted the Mistress’ head back and let her drink the cool water. The Mistress spit it out in visible frustration and tried to shake free from her friends. She let out of a scream of anger and frustration just before a seizure overwhelmed her. The blood mage flailed about on the ground as Henderson struggled to restrain her movement. Beatrix’s eyes had rolled back into her head as Jaina opened her satchel and removed a leather bit. Squeezing her wife’s cheeks, she forced it into the woman’s mouth. Beatrix let out various cries of agony as she writhed about on the ground. Jaina took her hand as tears welled up in her eyes. Henderson had waved over several of his troops and together they took hold of the Mistress and carried her into the city.

“Close the gate!” Henderson shouted. “Second squad! Clean up the mess! Burn the corpses!”

***​

The seizure had only lasted fifteen minutes, but it had rendered Beatrix unconscious. A few hours passed before she awoke to Jaina resting her head on her chest. The sorceress had embraced her lover, holding her close. Beatrix spit out the piece of leather in mouth which had become unbearably dry. Proudmoore had taken the liberty of getting the Mistress out of her armor and into some basic civilian clothes. Reaching for the canteen on the table next to the bed the redhead rustled Jaina out of her sleep who shot up out of concern.

“Are you okay!?”

“Yes, love. I just…I just need some water.”

The sorceress nodded and reached over her lover and grabbed the canteen. Unscrewing it she handed it to her wife who took a long thirst-quenching drink. Beatrix emptied the container of liquid and tossed the canteen into some unseen corner of their room.

“Are you okay?” Jaina asked sitting up. She ran her fingers through her lover’s hair.

The Mistress was staring out the window.

“I’ll be fine. We just need to focus on the coming war.”

“You know you can talk to me. I can’t imagine what fighting him could have been like.”

Beatrix shook her head. “Whoever that was…wasn’t Vladimir. I could see it in his eyes. It was a ruse to sway me over to their side, albeit a poor one at best.”

The Mistress swung her legs out from under the covers and stood up.

“Let’s gather the Officers and the NCO’s and go over the details again. I don’t want to miss anything.”

Jaina nodded, a smile forming over her features.
 

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Previously on Friends, (initial broadcast: April, 2019) …

“We are here to celebrate three of the Kingdoms’ most celebrated champions.”

While King Reynard was not a young man and had not been for decades, that did not mean the old king was infirm. In fact, as he stood upon the dias, the ‘old’ king seemed to brim with vitality. Even as the crowd cheered and applauded, the veteran monarch’s voice still seemed to boom over the atmosphere of jubilation and revelry. On the platform beneath him, the three heroes knelt as their patron continued.

“Over the last year or so, these three have helped to usher our kingdom from complete destruction. Not only did they arrive at our hour of greatest need, but they proved instrumental in rooting out the corruption and malice that had managed to spread throughout our fine city.

“Today, you gather to see these three ennobled as not only a celebration of all the good they have done for we Lodians, but also to help fill many of the voids created in our society by the great bleeding of the traitors and sycophants.”

The King stepped down from the throne and turned to take the ceremonial blade from the page who stood nearby. With a nod, the monarch dismissed the young man back as focus once again shifted toward the crowd.

“From hence forth, I make ye,” to continuous applause, King Reynard tapped each of the three upon both of their shoulders. “Duchess Beatrix Zulenka III, … Duchess Jaina Proudmoore, … and the Crown Prince of Lodis, Duke Gavin XVII.”

Beatrix, as she did almost every time, had to fight not to snicker at her companion’s identity in the aftermath of his ‘fusion’ with the actually very dead Crown Prince.

“Rise now,” the king intoned as he stepped back and held the sword upright before him.

The three rose to their feet, and after each received a kiss on each cheek from the king, they turned to face the crowd, which had not run out of breath or excitement throughout the short ceremony.

“Do ye three swear to uphold the laws, liberties, and legacies of Lodis for as long as ye shall live?”

“Aye!” They shouted in unison—an accomplish that had required no less than three hours of practice for two members of the threesome. At that affirmation, the audience once again roared their approval.

“Then I present unto ye assembled masses… your ducal peers!”

With that, the ceremony concluded, and what followed was a weekslong bender throughout the entire. After a few months of sporadic incidents of violence and rounding up the last remnants of the conspiracies and espionage rings, the kingdom needed the euphoric release of the city-wide festivities. While the three hadn’t been the only individuals to be ennobled, they were certainly the ‘main card’ in the festivities, and none of them could go far in public without being handed a free drink or being asked to share a story from their lives.

While the trio had been minor people of interest just a few months ago, they now found themselves as quite literally the center of the small kingdom’s world, for better or worse, as the next few months would show.
 

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January 2020 …

Seventeen adjusted his collar as their carriage carried them through the front gates of the Meranian crown city.

“You okay over there, Crown Prince Gavin?”

As always, Beatrix spoke his ‘name’ with a sneer on her face. Even after a year of him in this role, Beatrix still derived amusement from watching him squirm as he attended formal functions or had to present himself as a very dead man.

“I’m doing very well, Duchess Bloodclot,” Seventeen replied before sticking his tongue out at the woman and lazily kicking at her. When Beatrix laughed and moved to retaliate, Jaina put a hand on her thigh and glared her wife dead in the eyes.

“We need to be on our best behavior,” the wizard remarked softly as the portcullis closed behind their carriage and they commenced their journey toward the royal palace. “This could very well be a seminal event in the history of these three city-states.”

Nearly in unison, Seventeen and Beatrix rolled their eyes and turned their attention away from their companion, who sat nearest to the front of the carriage, where she had been focused on pointing out nearly every detail as it had approached from the horizon. Instead, the two—and their retinue of three fellow royals from Lodis—had taken the duration of the trip to talk about their shared love of court gossip, drinking, and fighting.

Jaina, who appreciated none of those things, had enjoyed peaking through the forward-facing hatches and occasionally climbing out to ask the driver a handful of questions about the surrounding landscape.

Now, the mood in the carriage had shifted a little, with the reality that they would be meeting with the Meranian elites shortly. While tensions had never calmed, the situation between Lodis and Merania had become barely tenable following the purges, given the vast connections between the traitors and Merania’s nobility. If Seventeen was correct, there had been at least six or seven Meranians among ‘the rolls’ that night, and while the enemy city-state had been incensed, they couldn’t really press the issue given the visible connections to crime their citizens had involved themselves with during their time undercover in Lodis.

This meeting, however, had come from seemingly nowhere. As had been conveyed during the trip, the majority of Lodis’ court had believed the war would inflame once again in the near future, especially given their city’s revival in the aftermath of the purges. After all, this would be their most opportune moment to strike, before a wholly resurrected Lodis could not only defend itself but get a measure of vengeance following years of bullying and pillaging by its vile neighbors.

A sturdy knock from the front of the carriage caused the hushed group of nobles to jolt softly before they realized it was just their driver.

“We’re here,” the man, a footman by the name of Steven (no relation), replied. “Courtyard. The throne chambers are a short walk away.”

“They want us to soak in the sights,” a woman, Gloria, spoke in hushed tones as Seventeen unbolted the carriage door and gently pushed it open for the others.

“I’ll go last,” Seventeen whispered when another of his peers paused and tried to motion him ahead. “I prefer it that way, I promise.”

“Are you certain?” Jarl Josiah was anything but a smiling, affable person. “You should be at the front of the line, Crown Prince.”

Seventeen heard Beatrix snicker even though she was leading the procession from the carriage and already halfway across the courtyard. “I much prefer to have the backs of my companions, my friend. I appreciate your cordiality, though.”

“Of course,” the young man whispered back as he descended the handful of stairs to the well-maintained sidewalk.

Stepping out from the carriage, Seventeen paused as he watched the jarl head up to join the others. Jarl Josiah was twenty-nine, which technically made him years older than Seventeen, who had spent much of his adult years dead before winding up in the Crossroads. Even so, the raven-haired cyborg often felt as if he had lived multiple lives.

As the driver had implied, the Meranians had certainly wanted the little retinue from Lodis to soak in the mighty castle that lay ahead of them. The styles were certainly incongruent to the outside eye. Lodis featured your standard medieval castle, like any one you’d imagine finding in an old, oversized picture book on your aunt’s coffee table. On the other hand, Merania’s castle was a sprawling palazzo that was block-shaped saved for some indentations in its structure to allow for skylights and open-air ceilings in a handful of pivotal areas.

In many ways, it reminded Seventeen of any domineering office building from Central or South City, only instead of going up, the palace of the Meranians went sideways. It was perhaps only four or five stories tall, but it covered an area that was likely twice the size of Lodis’ castle complex.

“I guess it makes it harder to bomb,” Seventeen muttered as he glanced once more time before breaking into a jog to catch up to his peers. By the time he had rejoined the retinue, they were already being ushered through the massive, reinforced doors and into the court room.

“Welcome!” A voice boomed from across the sprawling room that was filled with hand-carved columns, reflecting pools, and a variety of benches, rattan chairs, and other elegant spots for the everyday person to camp out while they awaited an audience with someone important. From half a city block away, a man in the puffy clothes commonly associated with the Meranians sauntered extended his hands and smiled.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Jaina replied as they all made their way down the central walkway, which took them over a particularly beautiful reflecting pool dotted with shimmering fish and glittering coins. One of the easiest decisions that the group had made during their travels was appointing the mage as their mouthpiece. Neither Seventeen nor Beatrix trusted themselves to engage in proper ‘diplomatic speak’, and the other jarls all knew Jaina’s reputation as a mostly level-headed mediator in many disputes. During the purges, Jaina had been one of the few people to defend some of the suspected conspirators, and while many had still faced the gallows, her dedication to justice and truth had earned her a reputation throughout both the court and the rest of the city.

“Duchess Proudmoore,” the man remarked as he met them only after they’d already walked two-thirds of the sprawling, partially open-air chamber. He offered a hand, and after Jaina took it, he gave a soft kiss to her gloved hand. “Your reputation proceeds you, Signorina.”

A frowny Beatrix stepped up to them and glared daggers at a man she had already judged as a snide weasel. “The pleasure is all ours.” She grumbled before an equally paralyzing look from Jaina silently informed her to mind her manners.

***​



Seventeen sloshed around the remaining contents of his chalice before tipping back the frothy few inches of his ale.

“Day drinking?”

The cyborg rolled his eyes and set down the elegant steel cup. “How else would you know I’m not an imposter or potentially infected with some cosmic space disease?”

“I think the raving about Darkseid, the tentacles, the biological corruption oozing out of your ears, or any other sort of degradation those things experience would be evidence enough.”

“How many books do you read in a day, Jaina?” Seventeen inquired as he motioned for the bartender to refill his cup. “I’m surprised you managed to pull yourself away from all those ledgers and scrolls. I figuring that drooling over troop deployments and munition resupply routes would keep you up all night.”

By this point, the blonde had made her way to the chair next to him and motioned for a drink of her own. “Strangely enough, that’s more of Beatrix’s forte. It’s been a long time since she’s served in any sort of formal, big city military structure, but by the looks of her this afternoon, those mental muscles haven’t atrophied one bit since she first left Arcadia.”

Seventeen rolled his eyes and smiled faintly as his cup was refilled and slid back in his direction. He waited for Jaina to get a glass of red wine before sharing a soft toast. “The scale’s a bit too much for me.” He spoke after taking a relatively light sip on what was his sixth or seventh serving at the little bar near the barracks. A few years ago, Seventeen had lobbied hard with the king to set up a little bar like this for the soldiers on the eve of the last big military campaign, waged a few years earlier. Seventeen had stressed the important role that libations played in the mentality of a man or woman who was potentially marching to their death, and the old man had relented for the sake of his ‘son’.

“You mentioned before that you led people into combat?” Jaina spoke as she took another liberal sip from her glass.

The raven-haired warrior nodded his head softly. “Yea, but we’re talking a group of maybe nine or ten people. Now, you need to know ahead of time that these people were like, barely functional lunatics, but …” Seventeen paused to finish his most recent serving of ale. After a soft burp, he set down the cup and gave another smile. “They were family, you know?” The expression on his face was one that hinted at a deep sadness that he grappled with more frequently than he would have liked.

“I’m sure they’re all doing okay,” Jaina replied after a few silent moments.

The man tilted his slightly bloodshot eyes in her direction and cracked a wider, more jovial smirk before giving a soft shake of his head. “I’m intoxicated, not mentally incapacitated. I’m sure I’ll see them all again someday, but for now, I’m in this place,” he lifted his far hand and pointed to the star-studded night sky overhead. “It’s not a terrible fate, y’know? I could be somewhere running from homicidal turtles or hiding from jackbooted troopers. Instead, I’m camping with soldiers, sitting in court, and drinking with,” he paused as he looked at Jaina.

“I know you’re not planning to call me a functional lunatic.”

A laugh escaped the man as he motioned for his drink to be filled up once again by the barkeep. “We both know that’s the redhead.”

“Cheers,” Jaina laughed as she held up her drink for another toast.

***​

“I want to thank you,” the man, Signore Falcone, replied as he led the retinue from the court chambers and into what was essentially an oversized hallway. In silence, the group followed the bureaucrat through a hallway adorned with rows of silent guards and through a heavy door into what seemed to be a large waiting room. “I understand that it was not an easy decision to come here. The Consul regrets that he will be running late to this meeting, but I am empowered to act in his stead until he arrives.”

“Unfortunate he could not be here to greet us,” Jaina spoke in a tone that managed to perfectly balance disappointment and politeness. In another world, the blonde would have made an excellent schoolteacher.

“Indeed,” the signore remarked as he walked over to the large desk at the other side of the office and motioned to some of the many lavish chairs that adorned the walls. “Please, I’d love for you all to be comfortable. The chefs will be arriving soon with some antipasti and liquid libations for us. We in Merania never turn down an opportunity for good food and drink, regardless of the situation.”

“The first thing we agree to,” Seventeen spoke before dropping into a plush chair and propping his feet onto the nearby ottoman.

“On that note,” Jaina interjected, attempting to keep the meeting professional and on track. “The messengers sent weren’t exactly clear on the context of this meeting, Signore.”

There was a knock. Signore Falcone smiled and clapped his hands softly before setting them back down into his lap. “This meeting is fairly simple.” The doors opened and a quartet of chefs entered, pushing metal carts with stainless steel cloches rattling almost melodically alongside the wheels beneath them. “We’re here to provide our terms to end hostilities between our two countries.”

“That’s excellent,” Jaina replied as her attention shifted from the servers and back to the signore. “I’ve been emp—”

The man shook his hand at her, causing her to tilt her head and recoil slightly as she noted a shift in his demeanor.

“You are mistaken, Duchess Proudmoore,” Signore Falcone spoke softly. “This isn’t a negotiation. This is a culling.”

In an instant, the metal cloches were ripped away to reveal high-powered weaponry that the servers scooped up swiftly and used to open fire on the visitors from Lodis.
 

Beatrix III

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Previously on Friends



The situation had turned hostile in an instant. Beatrix’s eyes lit up brightly glowing red as she dove towards Jaina, tackling her to the ground and overturning one of the lush chairs just as they opened fire. She pushed Proudmoore to the ground and took a knife from her sleeve. Slitting her own wrist, she put her fingers to her mouth and let loose a shrill whistle that echoed throughout the room. Flicking her bleeding wrist into the air, Beatrix sent drops of blood flying. Almost immediately her eyes lit up and the drops expanded into a thick crimson mist. As the projectiles aimed at them flowed through the blood mist they were latched onto by the coagulating vitae and pulled out of the path of their intended targets. Grabbing tightly to Jaina’s corset Beatrix dragged her towards the nearest window, making sure to grab Stephen’s belt with her other hand just as he was lobbing orbs of energy at their attackers. The red head dove through the paned glass taking both of her friends down with her. Just as they began to fall, all three of them gazed upon Slepinir who was in full gallop running up the side of the castle wall. Beatrix leapt to her horse just as he spread his Pegasus-like wings. Securing both of her friends to the saddle, she raised her bleeding hand to the sky and clenched her fist. The remaining windows in the room they had just jumped out of burst open with billowing flames as the blood mist conflagrated the entire room. With a stiff kick into Slepinir’s side she pulled him away from the castle wall and floated away from the city.

The entire city was now on alert. The tower bells were clanging as the garrison rushed to kill the fleeing trio.

“Hang on!” Beatrix yelled.

She pushed Slepinir into a dive just as a volley of arrows came their way.

“Little help!” The Mistress shouted as she swerved to avoid more arrows.

Stephen’s hands lit up with Ki energy as he lobbed several blue spheres towards the castle wall. The blasts hit their mark, blowing the troops apart and off the wall. With the archer’s handled Beatrix was able to guide Slepinir out of the city and into the countryside. When they landed safely near the edge of a giant field Beatrix hopped off and stormed for a few steps before ripping part of her formal clothing from her body. She let out a bellowing scream of frustration. She turned around to her compatriots and pointed in the direction of the castle city.

“Fuck. Them! I will tear that place down brick by brick!” She turned to shout in the direction they had come. “DO YOU HEAR ME!?”

“Calm down love. Come here.” Jaina beckoned the redhead into her open arms.

Beatrix planted her face directly into the blonde’s bosom and let out a long-frustrated groan.

“We tried to play ball. I guess it’s time to muster the army of Lodis.” Stephen added as he stepped down off the otherworldly horse.

Beatrix had turned around within Jaina’s embrace and had slid to her butt at the sorceress’ feet. The blond had placed both of her hands on the Mistress’ head to comfort her.

“Just as well. I’m tired of getting dressed up only FOR US TO BE ATTACKED.” The redhead commented furiously as she sighed.

“It’s okay love.” Jaina cooed, running her fingers through the Mistress’ hair.

Beatrix tilted her head up to look Proudmoore in the face. She bit her bottom lip seductively, giving her the most wanting look ever.

“Later, I promise. For now, let’s get back to Lodis and report on what happened.” The sorceress said.

Snapping her fingers brought her own horse and Stephen’s chocobo instantly to them. She pulled Beatrix to her feet, gave her a kiss on the nose, and climbed up onto her horse.

“We have a two-day ride. I have a tent and provisions for us. We should be okay if we follow the river.”

Stephen mounted his chicken and followed behind Jaina. Beatrix grumbled in frustration as she went to mount Slepinir.

“What’s the problem, Red?” Stephen asked. “I thought you loved near death experiences.”

Beatrix glared intensely at her comrade. A visible death stare. She slid her finger across her neck before kicking Slepinir in the hind quarters and taking off. It wasn’t long before morning turned to afternoon and afternoon turned to dusk. Jaina had found a nice little bank of the river where they could set up their camp. Stephen had set off to get firewood nearby while Jaina erected the tent using arcane magic. She had been carrying in it her trusty never-ending bag of supplies.

“Alright missy. Into the left tent before he gets back.” Jaina ordered to the Mistress.

Beatrix trudged into the tent and stood at the back end while Jaina secured the flap and pulled out some supplies from her bag. The redhead stood with her arms crossed with a visible scowl on her face.

“Oh love. You’re lucky I love taking care of you. You can be so difficult when this happens.” The sorceress said as she began to undo her wife’s dress garb.

It wasn’t long before the problem was visible enough to Jaina that she smiled softly.

“Alright, peel that off and we’ll get you cleaned up. You told me you weren’t due for like a week.”

“Yeah…well…I’m not perfect.” Beatrix mumbled.

“No. You are certainly not, but that’s why I love you.” Jaina said with a giggle.

She went out with a bucket and came back with it full to the brim with river water. Zapping it with a bolt of fire magic, it was instantly brought to a steaming temperature.

“Throw those clothes in a pile and we’ll wash them later. I have some you can wear.”

Jaina took a rag and dunked it in the bucket. Wringing it out she brought it over to her wife and began to clean her up. After just a few minutes Jaina tossed the bloody rag into the bucket and pulled out a small box of tampons from her bag.

“Here.” The sorceress handed one to the Mistress who immediately applied it and tossed the plastic to the side.

“Now that you’re clean…” Jaina handed her wife some fresh panties and a pair of loose linen trousers.

“Wear that. Stephen is back with the firewood. We’ll get something to eat and then we can relax. My wards should keep people out.”

The Mistress slid herself into the fresh clothes and tied the waist band tight. Jaina was the first to leave the tent behind.

“Sorry about that, Stephen. We had a little accident of the female nature. All good though.”

“No need to apologize. I was in a relationship previously before I came to the crossroads.”

Twenty minutes went by, and the fire was roaring. Fresh rabbit was cooking over the fire and Beatrix hadn’t left the tent yet. Jaina returned to their side of the tent to find her wife sitting Indian style on the floor with tears running down her face.

“Oh love. Why are you crying?” Jaina asked as she sat down next to the Mistress and pulled her into an embrace.

“I don’t know.” The redhead replied, sniffling.

Jaina thumbed away the tears from her lover’s face and kissed her on the forehead.

“You’re okay, my love. Maybe some food will make you feel better, hm? We caught some nicely sized rabbits. I have some wine. You’re just a little emotional.”

“Why am I such a baby?”

“You’re not, love. You’re under a lot of stress. We just narrowly avoided being killed. I think you’ve earned the right to be upset. No one thinks any less of you. You’re still the ruthless assassin I fell in love with.”

Beatrix smiled and giggled, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“See? Now let’s get some dinner and then you can rest.”

Dinner went better than expected. Beatrix perked up quite a bit after having her fill of rabbit and wine. She was the first to go into the tent to sleep, leaving Jaina and Stephen by the fire.

“Sorry for all the fuss.” Jaina said to her comrade. “She can be a little wonky when this happens.”

“It’s no problem. As long as she’s okay.” He replied.

“She’s just fine. Nothing a little food and wine couldn’t fix.” Jaina took a drink from her cup.

“What do you think about our situation? Merania attempting to kill us means we must go to war. Are we really prepared for that?”

“I don’t know. Lodis is prosperous. They can probably field an army large enough. I really wasn’t expecting to have to siege the city and kill everyone though. I was hoping we could come to some arrangement. Even if we did bomb them previously.” Stephen replied.

Jaina had turned her attention to the tent where her wife was sleeping, but she had been paying attention.

“I think we should return to Lodis and take stock of what we have available. We’re going to need siege weapons and engineers to build them. Provisions for the army, etcetera, etcetera.”

The two of them discussed various things about their current situation well into the evening before retiring to bed for a much-earned respite. Things were about to get chaotic in Lodis. They needed to enjoy the time they had to relax while they had it.
 

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Previously on Friends (Original broadcast date: Late March 2023) ... - The One with the Fall of the Idrisids

It was the end of a long day of planning with the command officers, the leaders of the army, and the upper royalty. Beatrix had retreated to the bath on the floor where their room was. She didn’t know where Jaina had gone, but she wasn’t worried. The redhead took one bucket of hot water and splashed it into the tub followed by a second, filling it to the right amount. Stepping in the Mistress slid down into the hot water up to her chin and breathed a sigh of relief. Time seemed to slow down as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the water around her. She ran her fingers across her scarred naked body. The siege of Merania had left her with many new scars. One across her back, one across her left cheek, and unfortunately, much to Jaina’s faux dismay, one across her left breast. It hadn’t been a deep cut, but it was just enough to leave a faint line across her already marred body. The door to the bath opened without a knock which made Beatrix open her eyes. It was Jaina, who remained silent. She moved in front of Beatrix’s vision of the fireplace and zapped the water back up to temperature with fire magic.

Undoing her corset and the rest of her clothes, the sorceress stripped in front of her wife, making eye contact with the redhead the entire time. When she was finally naked, she pulled the braid in her hair loose and let her hair down, fluffing it to free it from its former twisted prison. Jaina looked like a different woman with her hair down. An extremely attractive woman, yes. Not that she wasn’t already, but when the sorceress let her hair down, she looked almost completely different. She looked like a wild version of herself ready to pounce. Jaina stepped into the tub and knelt between her lovers’ legs and leaned forward resting her chin on the top of Beatrix’s chest looking into her eyes. Jaina placed a hand on Beatrix lower stomach. The redhead looked into her lovers’ eyes.

I want you.” The sorceress whispered seductively.

Beatrix felt a wave of pleasure form around Jaina’s hand and move downward. She inhaled sharply only to have Jaina press her lips against hers. Beatrix wrapped her arms around Jaina and moved her hands along the smooth skin on her back.

“I’m exhausted love…come lay with me.” Jaina whispered breathily.

Jaina’s hand began to warm up against the temperature of the water. Beatrix bit playfully at Jaina’s neck and exhaled as she silently climaxed. Almost immediately the stress and pressure of the day melted away. Beatrix leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Jaina kissed her lover’s neck. She removed her hand and grabbed hold of the redhead’s chin. She turned Beatrix’s head so she could see the new scar on her cheek. Placing a gentle kiss on it she brushed her lips across her lovers before lowering her head to kiss the new scar that had appeared on her otherwise unscarred bosom.

“Never let anyone tell you you’re not beautiful, love. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and I will ever meet. Your scars are important reminders of the times you could have been taken from me and I will kiss each one in respect of that fact. When I thought I had lost you…”

Tears formed in Jaina’s eyes.

“When I saw them execute you.”

“Have you been dreaming about it again, my love?” Beatrix asked, resting her head against Jaina’s.

“I don’t know why it has begun to haunt me again. With this war with the Idrisids looming over our heads. I just…everything isn’t certain.”

More tears ran down the blonds face. “I know you’re the greatest warrior in the world.” Her voice was wavering.

“Shhhhh, love. No more. Let’s go to bed and I can hold you in my arms.” Beatrix cooed.

“I don’t want some new magic. Some new Unmaking spell to take you away permanently. Your blood magic usually gives me some respite from the fear that you might die. Knowing that you’ll reincarnate from any state, but we’ve never fought the Unmaking. They resurrected your husband. I’m worried that they’ll end your life permanently.”

Now Jaina was sobbing uncontrollably.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. I won’t let that happen. I worry about you too, you know. Not only do you have a bounty on your head that we’ve managed to keep secret, but you don’t have blood magic. I know our relationship used to be rocky and at our wedding I said most of everything I’ve ever wanted to say to you, but…there is nothing more important to me. Nothing whatsoever, than your well-being. My love for you is what keeps me going.” The Mistress reassured her wife.

Jaina was still crying, she was sobbing. The stress was getting to her.

“Please, love. Don’t cry. You have me here. You have me right now. You mustn’t dwell on things like this. Look how upset you are. You’re naked in a bathtub with me, babe. We’re going to go into bed and I’m going to hold you close. I’ll hold you for as long you need it, okay love? As long as it takes.”

Beatrix kissed Jaina’s forehead, down to her nose, and then pressed her lips to hers.

“What do you want to do? I can hold you for a little while in the bath here. Or we can go to bed. Whatever you want my love.” Beatrix whispered softly.

“Why are you the best in the whole Crossroads?” Jaina sobbed.

“Ah, but you’re mistaken. Sweetheart, it is you who is the best.”

Kissing Jaina’s forehead, Beatrix helped her up to her feet before wrapping an arm under her legs and picking Jaina up in her arms. The redhead carefully stepped out of the tub, kicked open the door and made her way to the bedroom. It was a chilly night, so she was quick to towel off before pulling down the covers on their giant bed. Grabbing one of Jaina’s nightgowns, the redhead threw it on her wife and took her by the hand into bed. Beatrix lay on her back, pulling Jaina on top of her, resting the sorceress’ head on her bosom. Blondie always loved listening to Beatrix’s heartbeat. It was calming. Jaina wrapped her arms around her wife and closed her eyes. She had stopped crying and was now calm. Beatrix played with Jaina’s hair, staring up at the ceiling lost in thought.

“What if they had some new magic that took you away permanently.”

Jaina’s words rang true. They didn’t know what they were walking into or…marching into. For all her powers, Beatrix was still vulnerable to mage hunters, only the most powerful though, and different types of magic that could suppress her abilities. Jaina’s arcane power had the ability to negate her blood magic. It was how the sorceress was able to keep her in check back when the Mistress could barely control it. Beatrix let out a heavy sigh. All she could do was comfort Jaina with positive affirmations. As Beatrix lay playing with Jaina’s hair she smiled as she listened to her breathe. She was out cold. Sleep was on its way for the redhead too, but she just wanted to make sure her wife was in fact asleep. Beatrix ran her fingers up along the naked parts of her own body, once again feeling for her scars. She placed a hand to her right cheek, along the scars that littered her face. A thought that had never occurred to her before. Was she beautiful as Jaina had said? Pretty? Things that she never thought about before. Beatrix quickly removed such thoughts from her mind and succumbed to sleep.
 

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Jaina awoke from her slumber and stretched across the bed. She was immediately startled when she realized Beatrix was not in bed with her. She sat up and looked around the room.

“Relax, love. I’m right here.” The Mistress reassured, standing in the back of the room with a flask in her hand.

She placed the metal container in her mouth and tilted it up, emptying the contents. Screwing the cap back on she placed it on the dresser where she had gotten it. Jaina stared longingly at her naked partner standing before her. Jaina beckoned the redhead over. Beatrix smiled and approached the bed. She pressed her lips to Jaina’s and pushed her back onto the bed.

It was Jaina’s turn to relax.

***​

The sorceress came back from the bath after freshening up. She was back to her old self having been reassured.

“We can plan all we like, but I think it’s time.” The blond said.

“I think so too. The more we wait the more we give our enemy time to strengthen and spy on us.”

“First I’m taking you to breakfast, my love.” Beatrix said with a wide smile.

She had dressed herself in a tight corset with a pair of leather pants and boots. There was a dagger draped horizontally across her lower back.

“Breakfast? Do we have time?”

“War isn’t going anywhere, babe. You’re going to have a nice breakfast with your wife. Now get dressed.”

Jaina was quick to dress into her signature mage robes. Beatrix led her down to the barracks mess hall where she picked out a table for themselves. The redhead went to fetch food, leaving Jaina at the table alone for a moment. She finished the braid in her hair and took out a notebook from her bag. It contained a list of thoughts and notes pertaining to the upcoming invasion of Idrisid territory. Beatrix returned to the table with a platter that contained two plates and two mugs of ale. Each plate contained a healthy helping of eggs, bacon, sausage, and fried potatoes. She put one in front of Jaina and one for her own spot, putting the mugs between them.

“Dig in. What’s with the notebook?”

“I was going over our numbers again. We can field twenty thousand troops if we drain all our retainers, including the troops from the capital.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” The redhead said through a mouthful of eggs.

Jaina stuffed a piece of bacon into her mouth. “We have no information on the strength of the Unmaking army there. Or what kind of troops they’re fielding. This is where I hope our mortars will come into play. I’ve managed to acquire seven mortar crews from an outlying province. If we can bombard the city before attacking it, we may just limit our casualties.”

The sorceress took a full bite of eggs and followed up with a sausage.

“How’s the preparation going on our siege engines? The mortars are fine, but did we manage to design the portable ram and trebuchets?”

Jaina took a long swig of her ale before burping and grabbing another piece of bacon.

“Even better. We have a ram as a secondary option, but I’ve managed to get three bombards made up in the ironworks. We have limited ammunition, so they’ll only be used on the castle siege, but if my math is right…” She took another bite of eggs.

“They’ll blow right through the wall and let us walk right in.” She said through a mouthful.

“I’ve borrowed the royal guard to defend them. They’ll be secured towards the back of the column as we march, defended on every side. If we’re lucky, the Unmaking forces won’t know we have them. I’ve kept it pretty close to my chest.”

Beatrix shoved two pieces of bacon into her mouth and smiled. “How much heavy infantry do we have?”

Jaina swallowed her food and turned the page in her notebook. “About twenty-five hundred. We have fifteen-hundred hussars as well. They should prove useful. Plus, we have the troops from the capital. If what we were told is true, they’re elite infantry. I don’t expect to use them until the opening wave rushes the castle. The mortars and archers will provide covering fire as we breach the walls. The shields the infantry have should protect them from arrows. We’ll keep them spaced out until we charge.”

The sorceress took another bite of eggs and sausage. Beatrix finished chewing and took a drink from her flagon.

“I know our “Gavin” will be commanding the army and I know you’ll be with the mortars adjusting their trajectory on the fly. Where am I during all of this?” Beatrix asked.

“The King was very impressed by your command of the infantry during the Meranian conflict. He personally requested that you lead his men once more as General.”

The Mistress stuffed two sausages into her mouth and nodded. “Alright. I can do that.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. In any case, I had a special set of armor designed for you. One of our blacksmiths specializes in mithril and has forged you a custom set of fullplate based on your exact measurements. I also had the tailors make you a custom gambeson to go underneath. It’s fitted with mithril fibers, your chainmail will also be mithril. It should be very light and let you keep better mobility than a traditional set of plate.” Jaina explained.

She took another drink from her flagon and finished off her eggs, taking a bite of bacon at the same time.

“All that for me?” Beatrix said with a laugh.

“You’re literally going to be the person the men look to during the battle. You’ll be right there with them. As much as I hate sending you in on the front line. The King is right. It’ll boost morale if we have a General fighting amongst the men. I’m unsure of where Gavin will be, but I’m sure he’ll be deep in the action as well.”

Both of their plates were clean. Beatrix burped which made Jaina giggle. Wiping her mouth, the redhead leaned back in her chair.

“Hey. Look who decided to finally leave the living quarters.” Stephen said as he came into the mess all.

He sat down next to Jaina, who still had her notebook out. For the next hour the three of them talked shop. Beatrix and Jaina filled Stephen in on the numbers and the precise plan they had all come up with. The war was looming over their heads and the time was quickly approaching when they were going to march on the Unmaking city.
 

Beatrix III

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The army of Lodis had been mustered. Save for a very competent garrison of soldiers to defend the castle, the entire army had marched out towards Idrisid territory two days ago. Stephen-As-Gavin led the column with Jaina at his side. Beatrix was further back in the column where the men could see her. At the end of day two, Gavin had decided to make camp. Twenty thousand of Lodis’ finest were camped along the river adjacent to a huge wheat field. Because of their positions in the column, Beatrix did not have the company of her wife that night. The night was cold and rainy, which meant those on watch would get soaked. The wind had picked up and was blowing the Mistress’ tent about. Her armor was on a stand to the side across from her cot. A table in the back had various maps and papers splayed across it, held down by various blades.

The Mistress turned around as her lead scout entered her tent and saluted her.

“Ma’am. I’m ready to go.” He said, lowering his hood.

Beatrix threw him a quick salute back and moved to the table. She pointed to the crossroads they were coming to about twenty miles out.

“This crossroads is a perfect spot for an ambush along the column. If they hit the more valuable targets without us being able to respond we’ll lose vital resources. Your job, Serjeant, is to make sure we’re not rolling into an attack.”

She drew lines along each road with her quill. “Check each side.”

Beatrix looked the man she was sending out into the darkness up and down. She handed him a ruby pendant. He slipped it on over his head without question.

“That should keep you linked with Slepinir, whom you will be taking for your mission. He’s faster than any other horse we have. If you come under attack or are injured, that pendant will alert him, and he’ll get you out of there safely. Take these as well...”

Beatrix took a pair of goggles from the desk and handed them to her scout.

“They’ve been enchanted to let you see in the dark. Your vision will be focused and clear.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Tell Slepinir what you see. He’ll relay it back to me in real time. No more than a whisper, Serjeant. If you must raise the alarm, do so loudly and I’ll know to ready the guard.”

She stood in front of him. He was taller. Beatrix took stock of his outfit and armor. Tugging on pieces to see if they’ve been fitted well. His armor had been blackened and everything he was wearing was black as night.

“Get this done and you can eat and rest for the rest of the night.” She said saluting him.

He nodded and left the tent.

Look after him Slepinir.

Beatrix sighed as he heard hooves take off into the night. She ran her fingers through her hair and sat down on the chair behind her desk. She pulled a watch out of the pocket of her tunic. It was only ten. The Mistress rubbed her face with her hands. She knew what was coming. It had been a while since she had had one, but with the stress and late hours she had begun to lose a little bit of control of her blood magic.

“Corporal!” The Mistress called.

A man from outside her tent came and saluted her.

“Call for the doctor. Immediately!” She waved him away and he ran.

Almost an instant later the Mistress cried out in pain, holding her head, which roused some of the men near her. She got up to head towards the entrance to her tent but collapsed into convulsions onto the floor.

***​

Jaina stared longingly at a candle inside her and Stephen’s tent. As strategist it was only right that she bunk with the leader of the army. Their tent flap was closed. Stephen was out getting merry with some of the men leaving Jaina alone. On a cold and rainy night like this she wanted nothing else than to cozy up to her wife and listen to the rain pitter patter on the tent. She would have to settle for a single cot now. The blond got up and went to the shared desk in the back of her tent and looked at the map. Slepinir had galloped past twenty minutes ago which meant Beatrix already had someone looking into the crossroads that Jaina had circled. She knew she could count on her wife. Laughter close to the tent could be heard. Stephen was probably on his way back. Jaina smiled as Gavin opened the flap to their tent and entered. Almost immediately he closed it, ordered that no one enter, and reverted to Stephen.

“How are the men?” Jaina asked.

“Good. Despite the weather the men are in good spirits. They have faith in us. They believe in our ability to keep them safe.”

Jaina sighed with relief. “Good. What we’re asking of them isn’t lost on me. If the three of us could brute force an entire army I’d do it to save lives, but unfortunately, we’re just not that powerful.”

“Agreed. Did you eat yet?” Stephen asked, sitting down on his cot.

“No. I’m not very hungry.”

“Well at least drink something, Jaina. Dehydration is a soldiers’ worst enemy.” He said with a smile.

“Is that you talking or Gavin?”

“Both. Your wife would kill me if I didn’t make sure you were okay.” He replied.

“I can handle myself.”

“No one said you couldn’t, but we both know that if you were hurt under my watch our compatriot would kill me, resurrect me, and kill me again.”

Jaina laughed, but it was quickly quieted by the sounds of commotion. She got up and moved to the entrance, peeking out.

“Corporal, what’s the commotion?” She asked.

“Appears to be a medical emergency down by the Generals tent. Soldiers are saying it’s the Duchess.”

Jaina grabbed her bag and went to leave, but Stephen grabbed her by the arm.

“Let the doctors handle it. She’s in good hands. The guard protecting her know what to do. I made sure of that.” Seventeen pleaded.

Jaina threw off his arm and retreated into the tent and sat on her cot. She placed her bag down and sighed. What was wrong?

“It’s probably just a seizure.”

***​

“Hold her legs, Corporal! Hold her down!” Shouted the guard commander of Beatrix’s personal detail.

The Mistress was convulsing on the ground violently, her eyes rolled back into her head. She was foaming at the mouth. The Serjeant opened her mouth with his gloved hand and shoved in the leather bit from her pack.

“Keep her still, men. Hang on Duchess. The doctor is coming. WHERE IS THE DOCTOR!?”

A man rushed in from out of the rain. “Here, Serjeant. Inject her with this. Duchess Proudmoore gave it to me for this occasion.”

“How do I use this thing?” The guard commander said in frustration.

“Push the needle into her thigh and depress the plunger, Serjeant.”

The man did just that and tossed the syringe away. The medic took a morphine syrette from Beatrix’s pack and jammed it into her other thigh. Almost immediately the seizure stopped, and Beatrix spit out the thick leather bit she had been chomping down on. Coughing, she tried to sit up, but her men stopped her.

“Take it easy, General. Let’s get you into bed.” The Serjeant said as his men hoisted her off the ground and laid her on her cot.

Reaching into her bag the Serjeant removed a flask and with a relieved sigh handed it to Beatrix.

“Thank you, Serjeant. That will be all.” She croaked.

“Good night, ma’am.” He saluted and escorted his men out of the tent.

The Mistress’ head was reeling. She had a splitting headache, her jaw hurt, every muscle hurt in fact. Unscrewing the flask, she took a long drink before resealing the container. Closing her eyes, she thought back to the images she saw during her episode. Shadowy images of Jaina. A large tome bound in human flesh filled with text written in human blood. That book had shown up previously. Beatrix tried to focus on the images of the book. She inhaled deeply, holding it in briefly, before exhaling deeply. The book was in the Indrisid library.

The Book of the Dead. (yes that one)

With a sigh the Mistress tossed her flask and rolled over onto her side and curled into a ball. She fell asleep listening to the rainfall hit her canvas tent, her thoughts dwelling on the battle ahead.
 

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January 2020…

The camp fire had burned low.

Despite the initial tensions, the trio had initially managed to assuage most of their heightened feelings, and even the adrenaline-laden Beatrix had eventually been coaxed to sleep by Jaina.

Seventeen, who had volunteered for the last portion of the night watch, sat half-asleep as he stared into the embers. While he hadn’t expected the meeting to go well given their last visit to the city-state, he hadn’t anticipated an entire room full of waiters with ki-infused weaponry. The trio had been fortunate that they had loyal, highly trained mounts to usher them out of the city in the haze of confusion and chaos.

This time, the cyborg didn’t think their next visit to Merania would be under the pretext of diplomacy or even the subterfuge of their first trip. No… their next trip here would be at the head of a conquering force, he wagered. When the first and third options failed, you were left with the second option, and that’s the one that usually entailed the most destruction.

War.

Oh, joy. The cyborg’s mind wandered to yet more pitched battles where he and the two ladies would be thrust ahead as the primary spears of the Lodian army. He didn’t blame anyone, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed having to be a literal atomic weapon.

Somewhere, in the nearby foliage, a branch rustled softly. At first, Seventeen paid it no heed, but after a quick moment, he realized that there was no wind and efforts at hunting had spooked away all the nearby wildlife hours ago.

The raven-haired warrior twisted on his log and took a bolt of lightning square to the chest.

Beatrix snapped awake at the sound of the thunderclap and the resulting crash of her companion as he was ragdolled through a nearby tree. Grabbing ahold of a still groggy Jaina, the blood magus wrenched the blonde free as the sundered tree came crashing down into the center of their campsite. “We’re under attack!” She hissed as she tried to see through the cloud of dirt, leaves, and smoke that had now been kicked up throughout their cramped encampment.

Something sliced through the air a few inches from Beatrix’s right ear, and the woman dropped down low as she tried to ensure she was properly shielding Jaina. The pair had barely a few more minutes to gather themselves before the ground beneath them suddenly exploded, throwing both into the sky as the fount of earth, stone, and flames belched high above the tree line of the forest.

Removed from that earthen assault by ten or fifteen yards, Seventeen scrambled back to his feet as the initial burst of light and flames slowly died back down into the shattered earth. Clomps of seared dirt were still raining down through the distressed canopy, which had somehow not managed to catch fire. As low to the ground as he could manage, the man sprinted back toward the calamity of the camp. His ki sense could pick up the ladies, and while they’d be sore, they weren’t in mortal danger at the moment.

His focus was on their attackers, who had moved into the ruptured center of the tiny clearing and stopped. When Seventeen came out from the tree cover, he followed the age-old adage of ‘shoot first’, and he lashed out with a barrage of rapid-fire ki bursts that illuminated the dark forest in yet another show of lethal lights.

While certain he had heard at least one exclamation of pain, the raven-haired warrior barreled forward until he slammed right into someone not much larger than he was on a good day. Twisted together, the pair of adversaries crashed into the ground, with Seventeen winding up on his back in another startling example of how great this day had been.

Above him, the individual—a pale-skinned humanoid with pointy ears and eyes that seemed to glow purple—sneered as they drew back a hand that suddenly began to shimmer with similarly violet flames. The cyborg took a moment to eye the design on his attacker’s tabard, and then he angled his palm and leashed a burst of ki from close-quarters. The impact sent hie foe rolling backwards off of him when it should have punched cleanly through flesh.

After a quick kip up, Seventeen felt a twinge of vertigo as the earth beneath him seemed to tilt to the right. Up from the ground, ethereal black tendrils snaked their way up and moved to grab him. Leaping up into the air, he avoided that hazard only to be struck from three angles by various elemental attacks. Crashing down to the earth, he squeezed his eyes closed and orbed away just as another assault slammed into where he had fallen.

Seventeen rematerialized just a few feet from Beatrix, who held a bloodied and half-conscious Jaina while evading bolts of eldritch lightning. As the blood magus ducked, she found herself staring at her companion, who put a hand on both women. “Hold on.”

An imprecise distance from the camp, the trio appeared in a swirl of blue and white lights on the ground.

“We had that,” Beatrix immediately rasped as she helped Jaina into an upright position. The blonde seemed to have avoided any serious damage, but the glancing blow to her head had left a trail of blood down the side.

“We most certainly did not,” Seventeen snapped back as he grabbed the special frequency whistle that let him signal Salsa at a distance. “There were at least six of them in those woods.”

“We’ve dealt with far worse odds.”

“I blasted one of them in the chest from about six feet away.”

“And?”

“And he didn’t die. In fact, I’d wager they were more annoyed by it than anything else.”

“So they were armored,” Beatrix replied as she finally turned from Jaina to look at the cyborg. “We’ll adjust our tactics.”

“Dude wasn’t armored,” he quickly responded. “Unless there was some kind of magic enchantment I couldn’t discern, he was wearing just a fucking robe with some dumb ass eyeball with fingers logo on it.”

“Wh-what did you say?” Jaina was groggy and likely concussed, but the remark had pulled her from her haze. “Can you give more details on this logo?”

“This doesn’t seem like the time or place for this conversation.” From out of the bushes, Salsa and Slepinir appeared. As they were adept at doing, the pair of mounts had seamlessly eluded any pursuit en route to the high-frequency signal.

“Just tell me what it was,” Jaina spoke with far more conviction as Seventeen brushed his giant bird on the side of her head.

“Like I said… an eyeball with like … three fingers or arches going down from it, and I think it was purple.”

The blonde sorcerous scowled.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Beatrix asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ll admit I was a little … blindsided by that attack, but I swear that magic felt almost familiar to me. But not in a good way. A bad way. A very bad way.”

“Can we talk once we’re back in Lodis?” Seventeen whispered as he swung himself up onto his mount. “I don’t want to wait around to get ambushed again in these woods.”

“I still say we stand our ground,” Beatrix replied.

“No, we have to go.” Jaina, as she often did, served as a tie-breaker. “It’s obvious that there’s too many unknowns right now. I don’t like it. I want to think.”

“You heard the blondie,” Beatrix spoke after helping Jaina up onto their horse. “Let’s go.”

***​

Previously on Friends (Original Broadcast date: ‘June 2020’) …

A few months had passed since the failed diplomatic mission to Merania.

Despite their initial belief that the situation would explode into outright war, the trio had been surprised when King Reynard preached subtlety. In his capacity as the Crown Prince, Seventeen wanted to ‘tow the company line’, but even he felt a bit irritated that they were essentially being told to swallow their pride for the moment. Although armies weren’t rallied, the countryside quickly devolved into chaos as their volatile neighbor started to raid the region. While the history of the three cities was filled with this sort of back and forth, the newest batch of attacks seemed strangely personal.

Seventeen had responded to a number of them, and the carnage was nearly a bit too much for him to stomach at times. Previously, Merania would often take crops, steal valuables, and sometimes abduct farmers or people from villages. On almost every occasion, these goods would wind up being used as blackmail or sold through illicit networks to launder gold. Whether it was due to the purge of Merania agents in Lodis or a response to the failure to kill ‘the three’, the raids now bordered on ethnic cleansing.

Since the start of the year, there had been nearly three villages entirely destroyed, and upwards of two dozen farms had been burned to the ground. Blackened skeletons were often found tied to stakes in the fields.

The degree of the violence eventually caused the old king to relent in his usual policies. By the time the spring started to wind down, a dual approach had been started in response to ‘pressure’ from Merania. Armed caravans were more frequently dispatched to patrol the various central routes from Lodis to her surrounding villages. In line with this, the physical roads were all set to be redone, with genuine cobblestone used to replace what were often dirt paths that existed only by virtue of constant carriage traffic preventing the regrowth of grass.

In the long-term, the changes would benefit the safety of the realm and the facilitation of trade and transit, but in the short-term, it did little to assuage the frustrations of ‘the three’ or the handful of other hawkish individuals who held position in the King’s council.

On a particularly overcast morning near the start of the summer season, Seventeen found himself sequestered in his personal chambers. In the corner of the room, the CRT television set he’d procured a few months ago took a break from whatever sitcom he had been using as background noise to play an advertisement.

“Do you have what it takes to the best? The very best? Like no one ever was?”

That voice …

Seventeen, who had been half-asleep in his chaise, craned his neck to see what was on the screen. Much to his disbelief, he found himself staring at a commercial for Dante’s Abyss hosted by Karl Jak. While the distinct tone of voice was familiar enough, there was no misplacing the man’s uniquely styled head of hair or the purple three-piece suit he wore.

“If you think you have what it takes,” Karl spoke with a smug grin on his face as the screen displayed a montage of combat involving people Seventeen had never seen. “You won’t want to miss out on the Crossroads’ inaugural season of ‘Dante’s Abyss’! Only the best will make it to the island, and only the most legendary of individuals will weather the storm.

“Think you have what it takes? Signups are happening all around you! Just look for your nearest Syntech Station, and our staff will be more than helpful to assist you.” The man, who had returned to the screen, blew a kiss to the audience at home. “Smooches.”

Seventeen clicked off the TV and let the remote fall to the ground.

“Hard pass.” If that was—somehow, someway—the same Karl Jak, there was no way the cyborg would volunteer himself to once again be blown up on one of his death island hellholes.

“Nope. I like having my organs inside,” he reaffirmed as he rolled back toward the wall.

He had experienced all of ten seconds of silence when a soft knock came on his door.

“Come on in, Jaina,” he spoke without rolling back over. Even on her worst days, Jaina always had the same knock. Never rushed. Never angry. A gentle tap.

The door opened and the blonde poked her head through. “How did you know it was me? Are you …”

“Your knock,” he mumbled as he rolled over to face her and gestured with his hand for her to come in and occupy the chair in the other corner. “You could be running from a serial killer in a hockey mask, and I think you’d still have the same knock.”

“You could have been sleeping.”

Seventeen smiled. “Yes, I was trying to sleep.”

Ignoring that gentle snark, Jaina sat down in the wingback chair and held up a sketchpad. “Do you remember the assassination and the ambush later that night? Was this the symbol?”

The cyborg shuffled around so that he was sitting, and after a few moments, he nodded his head. “Yea, for the most part. The little eyeball part was different, though.”

Jaina looked at her sketch and then back to her friend. “Different how?”

“It kind of looked like a cat eye… a circle like that one, but with a vertical line. It also kind of looked like it was… I don’t know, angry? It was hard to tell.”

The blonde scribbled an image and showed him. “Like this?”

Seventeen laughed. “Yea, that’s probably closer to what it was. Like an angry fucking cat eye glaring out of the darkness or some shit.”

“Out of the Void.”

The man shrugged, having not picked up on the subtext of the woman’s remark. “I guess.”

“No,” she muttered as she set the tablet down and ran a hand through her hair. “Do you remember that ring we found during … the events?”

Even almost a year later and Jaina still felt uncomfortable about the purge. “You said you thought you recognized it? Like it was something from where you’re from.” His eyes wandered to the television monitor, where he had suffered a similar epiphany before her arrival.

“No, I did recognize it.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the exact same ring. “This is a signet ring that belonged to an individual who was part of a sect of wizards and witches where I am from. I was one of them, for a time. They were a force for great good.” She held up her sketchpad with her original drawing front and center. “This was their symbol.”

“Didn’t seem like a force of great good when that dude was trying to burn me alive or choke me with purple tentacles.”

Jaina frowned. “Tentacles? You didn’t mention tentacles that night.”

The machine-hybrid shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t want to invite too many jokes from your wife.” In fact, he simply didn’t think it was that important of a detail.

His friend continued to ruminate as she tapped a finger on the sketchpad. “It’s all wrong.” She seemed to be thinking out loud, so Seventeen didn’t reply immediately. “You sound like you’re describing the Void.”

“Are you talking about a place or…” He trailed off on purpose, yet another tried and patented method to navigate conversation with a wizard who often had her head in the clouds.

“The Void exists outside of reality,” Jaina muttered. “It’s the counterpart to what we in my world called ‘the Light’. It’s a terrible thing that corrupts and consumes everything it touches. People, civilizations, and gods have all tried to manipulate the Void to their own machinations, and each of those endeavors has backfired in one way or another.”

“You think they’re trying to tap into that here?”

“Possibly,” she continued to frown. “Perhaps some rogue Kirin Tor mage predated me here and meddled with magicks they shouldn’t have…”

“Those people were on Merania’s payrolls,” Seventeen replied.

Jaina nodded her head. “You said this magus was… ‘tough’?”

“Trust me,” the cyborg spoke with a soft smirk. “I don’t often pull punches. That person looked like I had just pissed them off, and I haven’t seen something like that since—”

“Since where you come from.”

“Yea,” he concluded. “Whatever that dude was juiced up on was something good. You can bet your ass I’m going full scorched earth the next time someone draws a staff on me.” He was smiling, but Jaina still had that taciturn look on her face.

“I fear for the people of Merania if there are those actively practicing this type of magic in their home. This could spiral. I also fear that the three of us pushed them in this dark direction.”

“It’s not our fault if they blow themselves up trying to decide new ways to kill us,” Seventeen replied. “It’s their own damn fault. They didn’t have to try and stab us in the face during our diplomatic visit, either.”

Jaina still looked unsettled, but this was one instance where she and the machine-hybrid were unlikely to see eye-to-eye.

“You know what else is strange?”

“What?”

“The Idrisids. They’ve made no movements against us. Are they usually not an active tormentor?”

“They probably learned not to mess with Lodis.”

Jaina frowned. “Something foul is in the air.”

“Yea … your mood.”

She threw the chair pillow at his head.

***​

Previously on Friends (Original Broadcast date: ‘Early June 2020’) …

Fortunately for Jaina, the heinous agents tapping into the Void did not bring about a great calamity in the region.

Unfortunately, that calamity still rose. It made itself manifest in reports of hideous monsters dripping with corruption and madness being spotted in the lands between Lodis and the Idrisids. It wouldn’t be for a few more weeks that Lodis would hear reports about some catastrophe that had befallen a far-away World called ‘Govermorne’.

Later incidents on Cevanti eventually filtered their way to the Hinterlands of Erde Nona. By that point, it was clear that something was seriously wrong in the Idrisids, and the monstrosities that roamed the countryside had a name: The Unmade.

“You really think this event is going to be a useful investment of our time?” Beatrix posed the question as she lazily leafed through the pamphlet that her wife had procured ahead of this little powwow.

“Unfortunately, I do,” Seventeen replied as he shut the door to the wine cellar. In all of Castle Lodis, this was one of the locations where it was nigh impossible to be spied upon, and he’d already made certain that there weren’t any devices planted here.

“It’s a … fake military game?” Beatrix inquired as she tossed the document back to her partner and looked over at the raven-haired warrior. “We have real military engagements that we might be involved in here and now.” The woman referred to Merania, which had recently fired artillery into the city. While there had no fatalities given many of the locals in that quarter were at worship, the event was still something of a black stain on the Lodian court.

After that incident, Seventeen and Jaina had called for a meeting of the council and waylaid nearly every member of it who had delayed the inevitable collision course between Lodis and Merania (Beatrix skipped the meeting to torture the captured Meranians). The outcome of that meeting had been King Reynard officially greenlighting a retaliatory strike, but he stopped short of signaling for war. Seventeen and Jaina reacted by formally issuing a dissenting opinion and walking out of the meeting, which was the closest the two had ever come to publicly breaking with the king’s decision.

The three were left out of the planning for that retaliatory strike, and while that stung Beatrix, Jaina was happy, because it meant they didn’t have to fear that Lodis would retaliate with another magical strike force.

Even so, Seventeen, despite his public role as Crown Prince Gavin, harbored some frustration and resentment toward ‘his father’. The cyborg hated the long-game that the political types were trying to play with Merania. When pressed, King Reynard always seemed to have some sort of excuse tied to public perceptions or economic stability, and after nearly a year of this song and dance, Seventeen was starting to grow restless in his role.

“The guy who is running it,” Seventeen spoke as he pointed to the grinning maniac on the back of the pamphlet. “One of the factions is apparently comprised of captured Unmade forces.”

That garnered Jaina’s attention, who took the document to give it a more thorough examination.

Since the first Unmade had been sighted last autumn, their numbers had only seemed to grow. In the span of months, they had gone from being the rumors of travelers to attacking villages and finally, a few had started to claw and screech on the outskirts of Lodis’ city walls. In those early months, Jaina had been convinced that the blighted creatures had been related to the sect of ‘void magi’ in the employ of Merania’s throne. When they were able to capture their first unmade creature, the wizard had been all the more horrified to discover that this was yet another type of malevolent monster that inhabited the Crossroads.

“This could be an excellent opportunity to get more experience dealing with these creatures,” Jaina remarked as her gaze met that of Beatrix. “The three of us have very limited exposure, and this might help us to better rationalize this … plague.”

Beatrix rolled her eyes. “This is one of those Dante’s Abyss things,” she looked at the cyborg. “Didn’t you tell me once that this guy used to peddle these events in your home? Didn’t you use to say that they always devolved into subterfuge and fratricide?”

“That’s correct,” Seventeen mumbled after a few moments of silence. “But I think the benefits of this outweigh the negatives.” He added with a smile. “You’re not telling me that you enjoy passing the weeks in this castle or behind these city walls? Is the mighty Beatrix III turning down the opportunity to actually showcase her skillset? Are you telling me that you’re the softest one out of the three of us?”

The blood magus glared silently for a few moments. “Fuck you, [/i]Steve[/i].”

“Hard pass, Trix.

The redhead crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t break eye contact with her sneering companion. “Where’s the nearest sign-up station?”

Seventeen grinned, and despite her best efforts, a small smile flickered on Jaina’s stoic visage. Even if the redhead’s two closest companions had diametrically opposed reasons, they were both pleased to be heading out of Lodis for a few weeks.

Just like that, the ‘Lodis Three’ were off to Conquest…
 

Beatrix III

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(Present Day)

The column had been marching for several days since their stop at the crossroads. By Beatrix’s estimate they were two days from the Idrisid capital. The outlying area had proven to be completely abandoned. Each village they passed was a stark reminder and proof that the kingdom they were sieging had fallen to the Unmaking. It was early morning, and the army was readying themselves for their march when a horn sounded from one of the scouts. Beatrix dropped what she was doing and ran to the main stretch of road between the camped soldiers. A scout rode up on one of the many horses they had brought.

“Ma’am! Idrisid army headed this way. They appear to know where we are.”

“How long do we have?”

“They’ll be here by midday.”

Damn it.

“Get this to the Crown Prince and Jaina Proudmoore! GO!”

“GUARD! Sound the horn to muster. We’ll move into the field and entrench ourselves.”

It didn’t take long before everyone around her was making their way into the massive field they had been camped next to. Both Gavin and Jaina made their way to Beatrix among her preparations.

“We’ll handle the column. You need to get to the front and organize the line.” Jaina said.

“I’ll be with the fourth and fifth cohort behind you.” Stephen-as-Gavin said.

“If I see you faltering, I’ll rush in behind you, but I’m hoping the first three cohorts are enough. Especially with you there.”

Beatrix was strapping on the remaining bits of her armor with the help of several attendants.

“Ready the mortars and get the archers into position. I’ll handle the front. I have some new tricks up my sleeve.”

“Be safe.” Gavin said to both Jaina and Beatrix.

“Hey. You too. Now let’s go!”

Beatrix climbed onto Slepinir and rode to the front of the army which was marching into position into the field next to the encampment. Without time to break down tents and temporary living quarters the entire army was emptying their encampment. She reached the front greeted by cheers and shouts of praise. Climbing down off her horse she slapped him on the hindquarters and sent him off. The Mistress took command and led her troops into position. It took time to get the army into position and to form ranks. Just as the enemy Idrisid army came into distant view the first three cohorts of the army of Lodis were positioned ready to receive them. A Serjeant handed the redhead a flare gun which the Mistress fired into the air, shooting a bright green orb of light into the sky. Beatrix looked back to see several more rise into the sky.

They were ready. This was it. The first skirmish of the war. This was everything they had been preparing for. The approaching army was smaller in size, but Beatrix knew not to underestimate them.

“Ma’am! An envoy approaches.” One of the serjeants shouted.

Beatrix took up her spy glass and looked.

Fucking hell. It was Rebekah.

Beatrix ordered two of her finest to her side and began making her way over to meet her dead sister-in-law in the middle of the battlefield. It was a long walk and before long both warriors were standing before each other.

“I figured you’d be leading this…this foolish attempt to change the inevitable.”

Beatrix scowled. “I remember killing you.”

Rebekah looked barely like her original self. Her skin was pale white, her veins highlighted by black corruption flowing her. Her eyes were solid black in color, and she was dressed in wicked looking plate armor, a sword at her side.

“My superiors have come to offer Lodis a deal.”

“That’s nice of them.” Beatrix quipped.

“Yes, well. The Unmaking is nothing if not fair.”

“You call it fair to corrupt and murder innocents for no other reason than to bolster your ranks?”

Now it was Rebekah’s turn to scowl. “You’re one to talk, Sanguine Phoenix!”

“You’ve butchered hundreds of people. If not thousands, considering your war with Merania.”

This made Beatirx furrow her brow. Even if Rebekah was right, it still pissed her off.

“State your terms before I kill you a second time.”

Rebekah chuckled at the thought. “You will disband your army. You will return these people to their homes never to take up arms against the Unmaking again. You will live a life of servitude as servants of the Unmaking and Darkseid, producing materials for the war effort. No one will be Unmade, unless they break our laws. When the time comes you will march on Arcadia with us. If you agree to this…you and your army will be spared…like I said.”

Beatrix spit at Rebekah’s feet. “And if I refuse?”

“We fight to the death, Beatrix. We fight and I take back my family name. I will parade your corpse around the planet showing what happens when people oppose us. Your wife will be unmade and forced to supply magicks for the war cause. Your precious Gavin will be beheaded and piked on the castle wall.”

The mention of her friends, especially her wife, infuriated the redhead.

“So, you’re proposing a duel? You’re still going to attack if I win.”

“Yes, but are you really going to pass up a chance at killing the enemy commander?”

No. No she wasn’t.

Beatrix waved off her two guards and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. Grasping the hilt of her blackened steel longsword at her side she drew the blade and made eye contact with the resurrected Rebekah. The undead woman struck first. With one swift move she drew her blade and lunged forward. Beatrix brought her blade forward and deflected the blow left, their blades clashing. The Mistress pushed her blade forward into Rebekah’s guard forcing the woman to sidestep. Slashing to the left the redhead brought blade against the undead woman who blocked it. The two women fought for an hour exchanging blows and superficial wounds to each other. Beatrix had improved greatly since their last fight. As the fight continued it was to Rebekah’s dismay that her sister-in-law had obviously received extensive training beyond what she had remembered. It was then that she made the mistake that took her life…again. Beatrix parried a strike from Rebekah, drove her blade out of her hands, removed the woman’s arm and then in one wide horizontal strike had her head removed from her shoulders. The Mistress kicked the corpse to the ground and sighed, her breathing heavy from exertion.

“Cunt.”

The two guards that had accompanied their dead commander quickly retreated to their main force which had immediately decided to charge. Beatrix grabbed the horn from one of the men that had accompanied her and blew into it, raising her bloodied sword above her head.

“To the general! Chaaaaaarge!” The serjeants and officers yelled, pushing the entire front line into a dead sprint.

Beatrix planted her blade into the ground as both armies approached. She knelt and picked up Rebekah’s sword. Almost immediately she was overcome by visions of the woman suffering and being tortured by the Unmaking. They had entombed her soul into the blade and corrupted it. This was powerful magic, that in the right hands, could be used to KILL Unmaking forces instead of serving them. She needed to do right by Rebekah. For Vad. Reaching around the decapitated woman’s waist, Beatrix unbuckled the sheathe and pulled it away. Sheathing the rune blade the Mistress wrapped the belt around waist and fastened it, pulling it tight. As the Mistress turned to face the oncoming waves of Unmaking forces, she thought…Maybe we could cleanse Rebekah’s soul and give her some peace.

Lodian forces reached the Mistress first and with them she took off into a sprint, her blade readied to strike. As the enemy approached it was made clear to the blood mage that their enemy was not infantry, but Unmaking xenomorphs forces bred for war. Beatrix reached into her belt and pulled out a second flare gun. Firing into the sky she released a bright orb of red light that signaled Jaina and the mortars to fire.

Back by Jaina…

“It’s too early!” She proclaimed.

“Ma’am. The order has been given!” Her lead officer pleaded.

With a sigh and a nod, Jaina gave permission to the officer at her side to give the order.

“ALL BATTERIES OPEN FIRE!”

One by one the sizable mortar guns exploded into action, unleashing hell upon the Unmaking army.

Back at the front…

Beatrix and the rest of her forces were in full charge by the time the first mortar strikes hit. The two armies collided with each other, the Lodian soldiers throwing xeno forces to the ground with their shields.

The battle had begun.

Beatrix sliced into the enemy before her. The fighting was intense as each side vied for control of the field. Serjeant Masters, who had been with Beatrix since the Meranian war, fought by her side just as before. The Lodians kicked, punched, sliced, and they carved through the Unmaking forces. Men were dying all around her, some from the wicked claws of the xenomorphs, others to the splashes of acidic blood on their armor and body. Beatrix took stock of her surroundings before deciding the best course of action.

It was time.

The piercing cry of the Sanguine Phoenix ripped across the battlefield. It was deafening. Masters recovered and rushed over to his commander.

“General? Are you okay?”

Beatrix couldn’t reply. Her eyes had gone white, and a wicked newly fanged grin had spread across her features. All she could hear was her heartbeat as tendrils of blood wrapped themselves over her body. She needed to do this fast. Tears of blood ran down from her eyes as red lightning crackled about her person. Wicked claws shot from her fingertips as her hands were transformed into killing tools. With another cry from the Sanguine Phoenix, she took off into the enemy lines.

“G-general!” Masters stammered as he chased, fellow soldiers in tow.

Beatrix mowed her way through xenomorph troops, clawing, slicing, and ripping them apart with her wicked strength and claws. She bellowed with her demonic voice, uttering words from a dead language. With the help from her blood magic, the Mistress carved a line straight through to the back of the enemy force. Turning around to face her men she smiled and raised a clawed hand to the sky. Her red iris’ flared to life with red energy as two giant waves of blood, both red and yellow in nature erupted from the ground fueled by the battle. They split down the middle of the newly carved path and splashed to the sides engulfing the enemy xenomorphs in liquid vitae. Almost immediately they began to shriek and scream as their own unique racial ability was turned against them. Their bodies bubbled and hissed beneath the acidic blood that had been splashed on them. The redhead looked to Masters and nodded.

“Split men! Split! To the left and right flank!”

Mortar fire continued to rain on the battle, taking both Lodian forces and Xeno forces with it. The Lodian force split and pushed the hole in the xenomorph line open further, splitting the army in two. Beatrix went left and continued carving through her opponents. The fight lasted for several hours. Finally, the last of the xenomorphs was put to the sword. Beatrix receded her form as quickly as it had come and dropped to her knees. The men around her cheered wildly, rushing to her aid.

“That was amazing, General!” Some of the men shouted.

“We keep this to ourselves, boys. Lest the wife find out I’m a monster, eh?” She smiled widely.

The men cheered and lifted the redhead to her feet. She was covered in blood and dirt. They all were. Their custom armor had kept them mostly safe from the acidic blood of their enemy but burns and wicked lacerations were the most common injury among the wounded.

“Masters, assembled the serjeants and begin taking stock of our wounded.” Beatrix ordered as she fired a green flare into the sky which led to cheers from the back line. The shelling had stopped, and the battle had been won. At what cost? The Mistress did not know.

***​

The sun was setting and the Lodian army had finally returned to camp. The medical tents had been erected near the front of the column and you could hear the cries of the injured as various medical practices and magicks were used to cure their wounds and help them back to their feet. Beatrix was sitting at her desk, the rune blade laying across it as Jaina and Stephen-as-Gavin entered. Stephen closed the tent flap, ordered no one enter, and approached the desk with the sorceress.

“I don’t really know what to say after these things.” Stephen said.

“It doesn’t matter what you say to me. As long as the men know you’re proud of them.” Beatrix said, leaning back.

“Who was the enemy commander?” Jaina asked, moving behind the desk to hold her lover’s head against her body.

“Rebekah Zulenka. They resurrected her. I took this blade from her corpse.”

“What was she doing with a runic soul blade?”

“It’s her soul.” Beatrix replied, looking up at her wife.

“What!?” Jaina was taken aback.

“They imprisoned her soul in the blade and made her fight for their cause.”

“That’s…I don’t even have words to describe how horrible that is.” Stephen said, sitting in a chair by the Mistress’ cot.

“I can cleanse it. In fact, I plan to. It’s a powerful weapon. I know Vad would want me to keep this and I already get the sense that Rebekah has forgiven me, knowing what I plan to do with her sword. I can’t release her soul, but I can give her peace. I can use its power to fight the evil that made it.”

“If you think you can wield it safely…” Jaina started.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

“What about the battle? How many men did we lose?”

Beatrix took a piece of paper she had been given earlier and unfolded it.

“We’re looking at two thousand dead. Times two wounded. We just didn’t want to let them through to the bulk of the army. I split the enemy line in two and did what I could, but we weren’t expect this…xenomorph enemy. They had acid for blood. It was hell like it always is.”

“Alright. Good work. I’m sure the King will be pleased.” Jaina said, running her fingers through her lover’s hair.

“Heh. That’s why I went to war. To please the King of Lodis.” She said sarcastically.

“I need to get back to making my rounds as Gavin. Stay in touch. Our scouts report that there is nothing between us and the city now.”

“Good. Now get out so I can be with my wife.”

Stephen-as-Gavin took his leave and left Jaina with her hero of a wife.

Beatrix immediately grabbed hold of the sorceress’ clothing and pulled her in for a kiss. Wrapping an arm around the blond, the Mistress pulled her in close. Getting up from the chair, the redhead pulled at her lover’s clothing, undoing the various ties and threads until she could rip it away and expose her ample bosom. Beatrix kissed Jaina’s neck, cupping her chest and pushing her into the center of the tent.

Beatrix wanted nothing more than to make love to her wife that night.

She did.
 
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