The Shattered Crowns

Fallen shifted back into his guard stance, his tone measured but firm. "I would prefer you not drag the Oathsworn into more danger, Sovran."

Vyn waved the comment off with a casual grin. "He wasn't in any real danger. Drake would've brawled, sure, but even that drunk knows when to stop."

Fallen's gaze hardened. "Do not test your luck."

"So serious, you Ukari," Vyn replied, his voice laced with mockery. He barely had time to dodge the swipe of a hand aimed at the back of his head. Lyra had settled beside him without a sound.

"I thought I told you to leave Drake alone," she said coolly.

Vyn shrugged, offering her a grin as disarming as it was mischievous. "He makes it so easy. And now, I've even got a new friend to help me stir trouble."

Lyra sighed, bowing her head in mock apology. "As his second-in-command, I apologize for any chaos Vyn has caused. It's my responsibility to ensure his actions don't tarnish the reputation of our battalion."

Vyn, unfazed, held out a chunk of dried meat. Elys, the saber-toothed tiger stretched across Akash's feet, snapped it up eagerly before curling back into its resting position.

"Elys likes him, so it's fine," Akash offered, his deep voice cutting through the tension like the edge of a blade.

"Elys?" Lyra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He means the saber-tooth," Vyn said, pointing at the cat. "Though I must admit, the name is oddly dignified for a beast that just tried to eat my dinner."

Lyra ignored him, redirecting the conversation. "Now that my delightful Sovran has finally decided to grace us with his attention, perhaps we can discuss our battle plans."

Vyn placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "You wound me, Lyra. My visionary mind is always looking ahead, solving problems no one else even sees yet."

"Is that... a good thing?" Akash asked hesitantly.

Vyn threw an arm around Akash's shoulder, grinning wide. "See? I knew we'd be sword brothers."

Lyra rolled her eyes, exasperation flickering across her face. "Men and their swords."

The comment earned a quiet chuckle from Akash. The sound surprised him—he hadn't laughed much since Daenys. Still, Lyra's observation was far too accurate to ignore.

Akash turned to Vyn, curiosity edging into his voice. "Let's hear this grand plan of yours."

"I knew you'd want to hear it," Vyn replied smugly, leaning forward with a conspiratorial air.

He paused for a moment, his thoughts drifting. Thousands of warriors would march to conquer the immovable Bridge and the four Spires. He couldn't afford to waste their lives. His plan might save hundreds. Yet, a quieter, more selfish voice hummed in the back of his mind—one that craved recognition. Recognition not just as a soldier, but as a man. A warrior. Mirak and Daenys had been his friends, but to the rest of the village, he was little more than a floor-dweller. Someone they wouldn't miss if he was swallowed whole by the war.

Vyn snapped back to the present, gesturing grandly. "Hear me out. If we divide the twenty Ukari into smaller groups, each supported by War Dancers, we bolster their numbers and maximize their impact. Everyone will focus on the Ukari while the War Dancers do what they do best."

Akash tilted his head. "And what's that?"

"Chaos," Fallen interjected coldly. "But we will not leave the Oathsworn unguarded."

Lyra folded her arms. "Jassin's ward will certainly not be left defenseless. One Ukari alone would be a force to reckon with, let alone enough to take the Dragon Mount or Mount Pyre."

Vyn grinned, leaning forward. "And we have twenty!"

Akash's brow furrowed in thought. "The Ukari won't appreciate being broken up. Five-man units would be better."

He glanced at Fallen for approval. The massive warrior gave a single, deliberate nod.

"That will suffice," Fallen said. "You'll have an honor guard of five."

Vyn clapped his hands together. "We can work with that."

Lyra bit her lip, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. "It'll be harder to integrate them with the War Dancers, but I'll run the numbers and assign groups."

"I'll inform the men," Vyn offered.

Akash's voice broke through the murmurs. "That is, assuming Jassin agrees to let me fight."

"He will," Vyn said confidently.

Akash's eyes narrowed. "So certain?"

Vyn sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Jassin may hesitate, but Dante knows the value of the Ukari. And he knows the Ukari won't march into battle without you. The people need their Angel of the Red Sands."

Fallen's voice was heavy with conviction. "He speaks true. Long have we watched the Hall of Kings, and now that an Oathsworn has been named, we will not see him fall."

Before anyone could reply, the tent flaps opened. All eyes turned as Dante strode in, exhaustion clinging to him like a shadow. The Paramount looked haggard, his face drawn and sleepless, yet the room rose in unison to salute him. All but Fallen, who remained seated, his silence a statement in itself.

Behind Dante, Jassin and Veneres followed. Jassin nodded to Akash, subtle but approving.

Dante's voice cut through the room like a whip. "Enough. I know I've been quiet about the Spire, but trust me when I say the nights have been long. I didn't even have time to smoke."

A ripple of laughter ran through the room. If the Paramount wasn't smoking, the merchants were said to weep.

"The main assault on the keeps above the Spire will come from two battalions," Dante continued. The murmurs began before he could finish.

"Two battalions? To take a keep?"

Dante raised a hand for silence. "Yes, two. The War Dancers and the Hearions."

Brox, the Hearions' Sovran, furrowed his brow. "The builders?" His second echoed the disbelief.

Fabien spoke next, his voice skeptical. "What are you thinking, Dante?"

Veneres silenced them with a single word. "Quiet."

The room fell still, their attention shifting to the man flanked by guards in golden masks. His command was absolute.

"The Jercis will support the assault," Veneres explained, his tone brooking no argument. "And, with the Angel of the Red Sands' approval, the Ukari."

All eyes turned to Akash. The weight of their stares pressed on him like armor. He met their gaze steadily, his voice unwavering. "I will gladly lend my aid."

A wave of cheers erupted, men clapping and calling his name. The Angel of the Red Sands would fight beside them, and in their hearts, they believed they could not lose.

Dante stepped closer, clapping Akash on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Akash. I didn't have the chance to say it after your ascension, but you've done well. I look forward to fighting at your side."

He exited the tent, leaving the room buzzing with anticipation. Veneres, ever calculating, followed with a parting remark. "Train well. It would be a great loss if you were to fall."

Akash blinked at the words, his heart catching. Veneres hadn't called him a joke. Perhaps…

Jassin approached next, his tone firm. "We'll train after breakfast. Away from the others."

Akash suppressed a groan. That meant hours of grueling drills, followed by a mad dash to rejoin the company. Elys nuzzled his leg, purring softly, as if offering comfort.

Vyn grinned. "Don't die on me. Our beautiful friendship has barely begun."

Akash shot him a glare. "Then join me."

Vyn recoiled theatrically. "I've endured Jassin's training once. Never again."

"You have my condolences," Lyra quipped.

Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Still, maybe I should let him have you, Vyn. A bit of discipline might do you good."

"I'll never leave your side, Lyra," Vyn replied, raising his cup in mock devotion.

Their banter continued until another figure approached—a man with a thin frame, his green cloak pooling at his feet. His hood was down, revealing a clean-shaven face that radiated calm confidence.

"So, we finally meet Jassin's ward," the man said smoothly. "He's kept you hidden long enough."

Akash stared, his mind already on the coming training. "Who are you?"

The stranger smiled faintly. "Eld Shadestealer, Sovran of the Reverent Saints. A pleasure, Angel of the Red Sands." His eyes glittered as he added, "If only you had wings. Then you'd be a masterpiece the Eight Divine themselves would envy."