Chapter 6.3

Author's Notes: 1,244 words.  All the DRAMA.

"In His name, what have you done? What did he do?" called out Eremia as she sprinted towards Alarick, pursued by a procession of guards and a fuming Madeleine. Madeleine nevertheless directed many of the men to pick up whatever buckets were still available, head to the lake, and come back with the water to douse the fires. In the meantime, Eremia leaped over Terasu and fell into Alarick's embrace.

Alarick looked at her and sighed. "I'm not entirely sure. We tried to stop him, but you can see how effective that was. I can't tell you where your brother is."

Eremia stared up at him with a shocked and exasperated expression. "What do you mean, he's gone....is he dead?" she said, face paling and voice now but a whisper. Madeleine glared at her and Alarick as she stood beside them, but Alarick raised his palm to tell Madeleine to stop before he responded to Eremia.

"If I knew, I would tell you," he noted. He turned himself and Eremia around to watch the now distant, looming figure being absorbed by the shadows. "That cannot be him; he is being controlled by something. Whether or not he's still alive in there is a mystery, much less what the thing that has possessed him is. It's not something that you or I have ever seen before, or perhaps ever heard of before."

Eremia began to silently cry, banging a fist against his chestplate. Staring down at the ground, she struggled to come up with her next words. "He tried to...he tried to...strangle me. There was…nothing left in his eyes...just a void. I screamed...and I threw him out...and he never said a word. I thought...it was a dream...and then I felt the pain...when he fought back."

She fell on her knees, buried her head in her hands, and cried, staring out occasionally to watch as what was once Jonah disappeared from her view entirely. Alarick sighed and picked Terasu up. He didn't know how to treat children, or to console them. The most he could do was leave them alone. Alarick handed the unconscious Terasu to Madeleine, who struggled to carry Terasu's weight, but adjusted shortly. Madeleine tapped her foot patiently as Alarick looked away, likely in an effort to find something else to coordinate. To lead. That was what he could do best.

"I do not appreciate your striking soldiers over the head," Madeleine protested, "or let my patients run away and hurt themselves."

Alarick looked straight into her eyes. "What else did you think I was supposed to do? What do you think I can do? We knew the risks when we brought in the children of Exedor---"

"These were the risks we predicted!?" shouted Madeleine, gesturing to the flames and chaos all about her. "Rowland is dead, the army is in disarray, we've had several battles over the past couple of days, and yet you persist to bash our generals in their heads!"

Alarick wiped the sweat from his forehead, and shot back a frustrated response. "There is no consoling that girl when she reaches a spell of rage. You know that much! I warned her, and I warned Rowland to stay away, and they ignored me! I accept full responsibility for his death, and all this madness, but I did what I knew must be done. Could we have risked war by leaving those children with a madman?"

Madeleine sighed, and dropped Terasu into a makeshift stretcher whose carriers had spent the past minute patiently waiting for her. Madeleine reached an arm down to Eremia, and gently ruffled through her hair. The teary-eyed Eremia stared up at Madeleine as the latter explained, "Come now. It will do you no good to stand out here and cry. You need rest, and some consolation." While Eremia sniffled, nodded, and grabbed Madeleine’s hand, the latter stared at Alarick. "We will discuss our next move, and whether or not to appoint a new general, tomorrow."

"I think we already have some answer," mused Alarick, walking behind them as they made their way towards the massive tent, now only partially aflame. "She has conviction now - a reason to fight. It would be unwise of you to ignore that."

There was a quaking, sad laugh, as the Madeleine brushed aside some hair that fell in front of her face. "Eremia has little battle experience, Alarick. She has been a secluded child her entire life, and only now has she been able to see the bloodshed and terror of the field. She lacks the skills or awareness, and I don’t think she’s eager to learn more."

They were now close to the partly doused structure. People ambled about, some confused and dazed, but most in a state of firm order. Documents were being piled on barrels and boxes, as firm-looking men and women in armor led the recovery efforts. Healing energy flowed onto individual after individual amongst a wide swath of injured, bruised, and bleeding soldiers. The Madeleine hummed a tune as she set Eremia down on a box, and walked over into a neighboring tent, all the while talking to multiple of her subordinates. The conversations blended together, producing a strange kind of melody, if melodies spoke of casualty lists and exasperation.

Alarick snatched a few maps from a pile of documents, and quickly skimmed through them. Satisfied, he pulled a box up to Eremia and sat down on it, so that he was staring directly at her. Her outfit was bloody, dust mattered her appearance, and her blonde hair was ruffled and incredibly disorganized. She was still crying, although not as fiercely as she had before, and now appeared to be caught in despairing contemplation. Eremia quite accurately captured the entire spirit of the army, Alarick noted.

"I'd like you to have these." Eremia received the maps presented to her and began to pour through these, while Alarick patiently watched. "You knew him best, and, even if he isn't himself anymore, I think you should be able to tell me where he is most bound to go," explained Alarick when she stared up at him in confusion.

Eremia mulled over the maps for a few more moments, and then pointed to a particular spot. "I think he wants...destruction," she mumbled. "He did try to kill us all. He'd want to go here to do the most damage."

With a raised eyebrow, the tired Alarick stared at the spot on the map she'd pointed to. His face, at once, seemed to grow years older, and the bags under his eyes far larger. It was as he had expected, although he had hoped otherwise. Now, however, there was shouting a short distance away, and Alarick watched glumly as a commotion broke out among a group of soldiers. A well-dressed man broke free from them and dashed over to Eremia. "Yorew!" she screamed in a mix of joy and sadness as they embraced, and she began to cry all over again while he rubbed her hair gently.

Madeleine stepped forward from her tent, a puzzled expression on her face when she saw Eremia and Yorew. Alarick could see eyes striking the back of his skull as he turned and walked away, but all he could do was shrug and say, "She'll do well. Bring her and this man to my quarters tomorrow."

"She will fight to save him, and I daresay that she'll save us in the process."