[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/246624086/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] “So that’s what all the fuss is about…” Ibis muttered. The town of Fairmont was in front of them, nestled into the hillside and covered by a blanket of fresh snow. Snowflakes danced in the air above, released by the heavy layer of clouds overhead and carried away by a strong wind. Derik suspected the weather would be bad in the coming days. He drew himself back behind the shelter of his tree and rubbed his tired eyes. Memories of the battles in Coal and Flats had plagued him all night, and he had hardly slept. Avery herself had come to wake him in the morning -why, Derik did not know- and had rescued him from a nightmare where everyone he knew lay in pools of blood while armored men danced with four-armed shadows around them. Exhausted and desperate for relief, Derik had told Avery of his insomnia and asked if she knew how to overcome it. Her only advice had been to try sleeping during the ride to Fairmont. He had managed to doze a little despite the shaking of the bus, but it hadn’t helped much. Even now his body ached and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Irene’s and Fren’s faces were still fresh in his mind. “Doesn’t look too impressive,” Saul remarked, referring to the fortress looming over Fairmont. “Then feel free to go in first,” Geralt invited sarcastically, sneering from behind the protection of his own tree, “I’ll give you a hero’s funeral.” “You’d have to come up with me to bring my body back,” Saul retorted, smiling at his own wit. Geralt bared his teeth in response, but didn’t reply. No one else spoke. Derik suspected they were all suffering from the same sleeplessness as he was. Derik turned and pressed his back against the tree, letting it support his weight as he looked back into the woods. Avery, Daedalus, Brenon, Hamin and Lerit were a few meters away, sharing the shelter of two large trees. The five of them had been talking for awhile. Derik wanted to know what they were discussing, but they were speaking in whispers and he couldn’t hear anything. Derik sighed, tilting his head back and wincing as it hit the trunk of the tree too hard. He had intentionally stuck close to Avery, hoping to be included in the plan, but so far had only managed to put himself and his friends on the front line in the process. “Can’t they see us from here?” Ibis asked, squinting as he watched Fairmont. Derik silently agreed. It was impossible for the makeshift army to hide properly at the edge of the woods, and there was no doubt that they were in plain sight of anyone who bothered to look. Several minutes passed. Derik spent the time watching Fairmont, looking for any sign of life. Not a soul could be seen. That confirmed Derik’s suspicions: the people of Fairmont knew Avery’s army had arrived. “Hey,” Saul alerted in a hushed tone, “They’re doin’ somethin’.” Derik turned back to see that Avery, Brenon, Lerit and Hamin had left the shelter of their trees. They dispersed, all going different directions back into the woods. Only Daedalus remained. “Lord Daedalus!” Derik called, careful not to speak too loudly, “What’s happening?” The air hummed as the voices of the army rose around them, asking their own questions. Daedalus ignored them, donning his helmet and adjusting his gauntlets. When he was done, he stepped out into the open and walked closer to the end of the forest. “IT’S TIME!” Daedalus broadcasted, pointing at the fortress of Fairmont, “Right down the street, but carefully! There could be fighters anywhere. We’ll stop at the front door. No one goes in!” With that, Daedalus trudged forward. At first no one else moved, still absorbing the curt instructions and steeling their nerves. Daedalus noticed, pausing only a moment to bark at them, “COME ON!” Derik was gripped by fear at the thought of walking into another gunfight. But Daedalus went out completely alone, not looking back again. Admiration sparked in Derik, seeing the old Warlord march to battle even when his followers were too scared to move. It was a courage Derik had never expected to see in Daedalus. The spark became a fire that ate at him. He couldn’t stay and let Daedalus die; he had to follow the Warlord. So he lurched into motion, and everyone else did the same almost simultaneously. A small clearing separated the woods from Fairmont. Daedalus himself led the way, quickly passing through the open space. The army crept after him like a wave in slow motion. Daedalus went right into the town without pause and down the middle of the street. Derik, feeling far too exposed and not knowing what to do with himself, took brisk steps to catch up to the Warlord. When he caught up, he ghosted behind the man. It only took Daedalus a moment to notice Derik, and he glanced over his shoulder to see the anxious army following him. Derik couldn’t see the Warlord’s face behind the visor of his helmet, but heard the agitated click of his tongue before he shouted at them, startling Derik, “To the sides!” The Warlord waved his arms in a spreading motion for emphasis, “Close to the buildings! Hug the walls! Check the corners an’ windows!” Derik nearly tripped trying to back away and bumped into Saul. The two hurried to the nearest house. Lines quickly formed on each side of the street, and Derik and Saul fell in. They were right at the front, with only one woman in front of them to lead the way. “Keep movin’!” Daedalus bellowed, and they all jolted into motion again. Derik recognized the woman in front of him -Yekaterina, from one of Rotan’s towns- and was glad someone other than him had become the leader of their ragged line. She glanced across the street and asked, “Why’s he still out there?” Derik followed her gaze and saw that Daedalus was still trudging through the middle of the street. His masked head swiveled to look in every direction, and his hand rested warily over his holstered hand cannon. “Crazy old Warlord,” a man spat quietly. They moved down the long road in silence. It became harder to walk through the snow as the path began to slope upwards. They passed by a window, and Derik’s heart jumped into his throat as the curtains were yanked together to hide the face of a villager. “Whoa,” Saul eased, resting a hand on Derik’s shoulder, “You alright?” Derik swallowed and nodded, pulling away from Saul and moving on. He stole a glance over his shoulder, looking for Avery and Brenon among the others behind them, but saw no sign of them. “Almost there…” Yekaterina mumbled. The fortress was very close now and only a couple houses remained in the way. Derik couldn’t see the gates of Fairmont castle yet, but knew from his previous visit that they soon would- Gunfire cracked the air, and everyone recoiled. Derik’s back slammed against the wall of a home and he held up his rifle, searching for the origin of the attack. A second burst immediately followed, and Derik watched as the lead men on the opposite side of the street fell back. One of them collapsed with a pained scream. “Where are they?!” Someone cried out. “They’re in front o’ the castle!” A man hollered back. More gunfire made the people opposite Derik panic, and they scrambled farther back the way they came. “Shoot back!” Daedalus roared, half-crouched but still in the middle of the street. “What do we do?” Saul whispered. “I’m not goin’ up there,” Yekaterina replied grimly. Derik was scared to go on, too, and the stillness of the others made it clear the feeling was mutual. “FIGHT!” Daedalus bellowed, plodding straight towards Derik and his friends, “You all follow me!” The old Warlord thundered past them and into an alley. They hesitantly followed and found him at the end of the alley, waving for them to join him. As they drew near and stopped beside him, Daedalus noticed Derik and Saul, “Oh, Chanely an’ Meat Sack-“ “Derik,” Derik corrected meekly. “Derik,” Daedalus grunted acknowledgement, then continued, “Seems you two have a knack for bein’ where the trouble is.” “Runs in the family,” Saul joked weakly. Daedalus grunted again, apparently unamused. “Hear that?” Daedalus asked, holding a hand up to where his ear was hidden under his helmet. Derik listened, hearing gunfire and the panicked shouts of their comrades in the street. “The others are distractin’ ‘em,” Daedalus stated, “‘Round this corner we should ‘ave a clear shot. Derik, gimme your gun.” Derik reluctantly handed over his rifle, and Daedalus took it. “Whaddaya need it for?” Derik queried. “Rifle’s always better at long range,” Daedalus muttered, “An’ Avery told me you weren’t worth much in a gunfight, anyway. When I shoot, couple o’ y’all hop out an’ shoot too while they’re surprised, got it?” “Uh, yeah…” Yekaterina muttered. She and Saul were closest, so they moved beside Daedalus. Derik did his best to stay out of the way. “Alright…” Daedalus trailed off, then whipped around the corner, taking aim. Derik held his breath, and the Warlord sighted his target then pulled the trigger.