Rose was knee-deep in a sea of blood, surrounded by shark-fin blades. Kallians confused their own with the enemy and struck down friends and brothers. Their side was no different as blasts of elfin magic struck down enemies and allies alike and knives and arrows thrown by Teris assassins found the hearts of rebels half as often as they reached Medea's men. Only the valkyries, who were carefully trained for this situation, seemed somewhat immune. But even some of those realised they faced against friends as those friends took last breaths.

Unlike the last war, there was no clash of armies on plains. This was nothing but an endless slaughter in labyrinthine streets, blood lying like heavy rain sometimes up to the knees. Abandoned weapons lay on the ground near their dead wielders, but never for long. There was little honour in war like this.

They had tried to be organised. Rose had attempted to stay by Myra's side and defend her as heirs were bound to, but they were soon separated. They was neither order or honour in something like this. Only survival. Only kill or be killed. An endless shower of blood. Her enemies' blood covered her armour like a badge of pride, mixing and intermingling with her friends'. Even her own stained the metal where she had been hit. Her breath was ragged. Her exhaustion ripped into her, a hand constantly reaching for her, trying to pull her into an endless and deadly sea of sleep. Hunger gnawed and roared in her stomach. Pain, dulled by adrenaline and powered by wounds, was an endless backdrop growing stronger by the second. Memories of friends' screams waited in the dark corners of her mind, held back by adrenaline and fear. Soon they would unleash and haunt her. Once the battle ended. If the battle ended. It seemed impossible that it could. Just like the blood, it was an endless sea that she could never escape, an eternity of steel and blood and screams.               

She was barely keeping her head above water. So many times, she had almost submerged. A centimetre's different, a moment of weakness, one careless misstep...that would be all it took for everything to end.

A loud crash rang through the air and Rose whirled to see a blast of wind shake an already falling-apart building to the ground. Screams echoed through the air as though foolish enough to stay in the taller towers died first, plummeting to the earth. Her sword-fight with a Kallian officer was abandoned as both rushed, mere ants in front of the falling tower. Endless masses, once divided, rushed together to avoid doom. A gash on her leg made walking painful but she gritted her teeth and sprinted through endless streets, fending off enemies who were stupid enough to be running themselves as she went. The tower hit the ground with the crash and she resisted the urge to close her eyes—

Its landing revealed a ruined wasteland of streets and bodies. Rose were mere inches from the impact zone. The Kallian officer—who had been neck-in-neck with her the whole desperate sprint—lay at her feet, his legs completely crushed under the brick. That could have been her. A mere wrong step, a trip on a random stone, a second's concession to roaring pain...then it would have been her.

Rose dragged his bleeding body out from under brick and brought her sword down on his heart with a single swift, hard blow. He didn't even get to scream. But with his legs crushed like that, all bent and twisted ...it had been a mercy killing. A less painful path to the same dark destination. His blood joined the rest on her amour, glimmering and still bright red in the sun.

It was seconds before the survivors began fighting amongst themselves again. Again, Rose lost herself to the terrible screech of blades, a deadly, aggressive dance of swords. She wielded her curved weapon with everything she had. This wasn't like the sparring and duels of her training. Fancy moves and elegance meant nothing in war. Clever, nimble feet reached out to bring opponents to their knees, metal poles replaced weapons and nails and teeth replaced those. Few hostages were taken and those that were often ended up on the blade of a knife minutes later for trying to run.

Rose didn't know how much longer she could go on. Exhaustion pulled at the seams of her adrenaline and she struggled to stay awake. She was treading water in a stormy sea. Any fool knew she wouldn't last much longer.

It wasn't a matter of skill. These Kallians, some with a few months' training and no motivation to fight for an Empress who'd torn them away from their homes, families and lives, knew nothing of the subtle, elegant and ruthless art of the blade. She sliced through each like a burning-hot knife through butter. Every challenger fell in a few swift, calculated moves. She was a full valkyrie warrior, one of so few left in the world.

No, it wasn't a matter of how good each of her opponents was. There was simply too many of them. In a one-on-one duel she would dispatch each with lightning speed and never earn a scratch. But this was an endless series of four or five at once and many cost her gashes and long, shallow wounds that stretched over her arms. She was a giant, pecked by a thousand small bee's stings. Together they might bring her down. Together they would. She wondered how long she had left, how many more hours, if there were hours left at all rather than mere minutes...

Stop. She allowed herself a single breath to recollect herself. You are Rose Mariasdaugther Isidore. You are She who is Called the Wolf. You will live. You survived the Empress. You survived five years quietly resisting her rule. You will not die now. The words felt like paper walls, standing still for a few moments but falling apart at first test.

Rose's blade, long but curved, found the weakness in her opponent's defences and lashed forth ruthlessly, striking for his stomach. She delivered another blow, this time to the now undefended heart, half out of mercy and half to make sure. His cry of pain and fear rung in her ears as she faced the next one. Strike and parry. Strike and parry. Strike and parry.                            

The next blow she sent had no parry, and his scream joined his predecessor's, both ringing in her head.

It had been hours-or seconds?—since it started. Two or three if she were to make her guess, but time was stretching and shrinking and blurring as the battle raged on. Rose saw dead friends and allies' bodies around her, but more Kallians littered the streets than rebels. Their buildings were falling, crumbling to dust at the hands of the elves. Whole streets had been taken in mini war by the valkyries, elves and Tarua Teris, forcing their enemy into a smaller and smaller centre. They were winning, but it was costing them heavily. And whilst Medea might have thousand of bodies to throw to the hungry fires of war, they did not. If this battle dragged on too long, irreparable damage might be done. Then they might as well have failed completely in the battle for Azul anyway. Might as well have given up on the walls of Topaz, Zerena, Citrine. Might as well have laid down their swords and died in the Warrior's Forest. Might as well have never fought back at all and given into the Empress' reign—

No. Rose bared her teeth at her next enemy. He paled as those teeth lengthened and sharpened into a wolf's. The shift finished and she lunged at him, ripping his throat out. No. She repeated the word again and again. All they had done for the past five-almost six-years had not been for nothing. Letting her mother and friends die thinking she was a deserter was not for nothing. All the friends lost, all the sacrifices made, all the death and suffering and pain from the moment the Empress had declared war-that was not for nothing. She wouldn't let it  be for nothing.

The Wolf let out a roar of rage and unleashed herself on the battle-wrecked streets.

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They closed in on the Kallian defenders, slowly circling them and forcing them all to make their last stand in the centre of the city, the very heart of Azul. It took hours and lives but they eventually trapped the remaining soldiers in a plaza, elves, valkyries and Tarua Teris on all sides. The three factions were no longer remotely distinguishable. Where once uniform and distance might have discerned which was which, they all wore the same uniform now: a uniform of blood. They stood by each others' sides, protecting one another. Elves enchanting behind Tarua Teris shields, valkyries and humans duelling enemies as one, even the forever divided Miras and Asriel uniting to survive. It might have warmed her heart, given her hope-if not for the exhaustion and deaths that pulled at the seams of her.   

Once they were all contained to the square, the true bloodbath began. Elfin magic tore Medea's soldiers apart and a thousand blades of Teris and valkyrie origins struck right into the surviving Kallians. Blood was almost knee-deep as the cornered, circled enemy tried desperately to escape the square. But they were corned prey before a much larger beast, mere mice in the hands of taunting cats. Now at last hostages were taken; everyone over private was taken away in chains.                                           

It wasn't a mercy. Merely a prolonged path to death that took a diversion through MindWeaving and ended up at execution rather than battle.

At last it was done. Rose surrendered to the exhaustion that racked her and collapsed in a hasty tent, still wearing the blood-covered armour that had walked with her through an endless apocalypse.