From the moment the fox saw that enormous tree sprout forth from the earth below, Rust knew the battle was over. The silence that fell upon that battlefield in the darkness of the night after only confirmed it. The cub had watched intently as the light of that golden heartbeat illuminated the sky like the rising sun, and knew there could be only one solution.

He had seen that light many times over, and it had even come to his rescue back at the caverns, but this time, it was more than the fox ever would've imagined. It was only visible to him above the line of houses, but the glow it cast was reassuring somehow. The fox wasn't afraid anymore. They were safe, they had won, and that mammoth cherry tree climbing into the air after only cemented that claim.

Rust took a single look at his hands, thinking about the gift he had awakened only moments before, and darted off towards the river to help before he ever stopped to think otherwise. The cub worked endlessly throughout the night with the support of Stahl to heal the injured, starting with Aster, who was unconscious by the time the cub arrived on scene. His focus and willpower never wavered for an instant until his part was over, well after dawn rose upon that weary battlefield turned sanctuary... Well after a certain stubborn bull finally found a place to rest for a moment.

The captain was beyond exhausted, going two complete days, a long walk with a sprint back, and fighting a demanding battle before being allowed to stop, his position had demanded such. He demanded as much from himself. The bull ate three pieces of the fruit, and walked around the backside of the tree, letting himself hide away from any that would think to approach him in that moment.

His duty was done for the day, and not a beast or orc present ever disturbed that solitude, intentionally or otherwise. The bull finally had a moment to think. The captain let himself mourn.

There had always been a Rixator in every war of every king for the passed four generations of Alora's ruling family. There was a legacy there to uphold for the bovine, and yet, suddenly, he was alone. He didn't have time to mourn his father, but the general had lived a full life. He had raised a fitting heir to lead on after him...

Mollis had helped ease that loneliness and keep the bovine distracted after his father had died a worthy death. Mollis had been there for him over half his life at that point... But she was the last piece of family the captain had, and he had just watched hee fade away from him as well, leaving only the faintest, fading taste of her behind.

The captain was alone. The captain was the last of his line. The captain was more tired than he should be... He would be thirty-four soon, and he could feel it. His body was becoming less dependable by the day... His right shoulder was on fire, and his knees felt like they had been ground to dust. The bull was struggling with his mortality, the lack of his own family or legacy that came with it, and the smothering realization that he was truly without anyone then.

Carcer closed his eyes, letting the flowers dance around him in the breeze. Despite his despair, his fatigue was winning. The bovine adjusted his head, took in a deep breath of the floral scent swirling around him, and exhaled a long, and drawn out sigh. He could think on such things after he had led his prince to safety...

Something thumped his new horn lightly, clasping itself around the tip of the cherry wood that had replaced it. The bull opened his eyes, and waved a hand near the presence, sitting up just a bit as he did so. A small sparrow jumped off the horn, landing just an arm's length in front of the bull.

The captain studied it with a sense of nonbelief, not moving a single inch more as he did so. It had dark brown feathers, with the lightest tan spots dotted around its plumage, just a tiny little sparrow seeming so out of place.

The bird took a few hops forward, and reached down, gathering up pieces of the flowery plant in its stead. It gathered a large beak-full, turned back to the bull one more time, and flittered off. The captain watched as it rose high into the air, and disappeared into the branches of the great tree towering above to start building its nest.

The bull let out a huff and fell backwards, folding his arms behind his head as he closed his eyes once more. The captain cracked a smile, and spoke in that whispered tone one last time before yielding to his exhaustion.

"I hear you, Mollis. I'll start building my own nest after my work is done here. I promise."

___

Prince Tyfin was not holding up well after the battle had ended. Mollis had drained him of almost everything, drawing the largest reserve of power the young lion had ever held at once to nothing within seconds. He had badly overused his bloodskill, stressing his nervous system, and leaving him with a dizzying sense of numbness.

He couldn't even feel his fingertips anymore, and that feeling was only spreading. As the death count was tallied, the prince found his forces had been decimated, leaving a mere handful to continue forth, the rest either dead, or choosing to stay behind in the village... The prince had failed, at least, in his eyes.

He had reassured his people, calling for strength, and asking them to put their lives on the line... To trust in their king... And now most of them were dead. That trust had only landed them in either a mass cremation, or the belly of fiends. He left that battlefield, choosing to be alone in his shame, finding it difficult to even walk through the prickle of numbness that stabbed at his feet.

Tyfin stumbled off, feeling like he hadn't actually contributed a single thing to the efforts, never realizing that it took far more than swords to take victory. Never realizing that their plan only failed because of the Earthwyrm disrupting everything at the most crucial point.

His ankle gave way, and he lost his balance just before reaching the outskirts of the village, forcing the young king to his knees. He barely caught himself as he fell forward, landing on shaky arms with his face mere inches from the dirt. His dizziness swept through him with new vigor, spiraling his vision as everything swirled beneath him.

The lion clenched his teeth, trying desperately to keep from emptying his stomach, but failing as he retched the bile from his lips. The prince didn't understand why his bloodskill was making him so dizzy, so nauseous, so short of breath... The numbing prickle he knew of, but never this. It was the beast standing behind him that pointed out what he was missing.

"It's harder than you thought, isn't it? Being responsible for so many lives... The weight a king must bear."

Tyfin couldn't even turn his head to look up at his visitor, barely keeping himself from falling apart completely. He couldn't even manage to speak, his chest was just too tight. Sir Corper just kept talking to the young king, as if he wasn't scarcely managing not to collapse into his own vomit.

"But you show true remorse... True leadership... Traits I didn't want to accept that you had. I wanted to see you as your father, for you are more like him than you know... He went down the wrong path, even with such promise. The same could easily happen for you as well..."

The bear went silent for a moment, taking a pause. The lion felt a powerful grip on his shoulder, and the sudden sensation of being pulled upright, held on his knees helplessly as the bear stood behind him.

Prince Tyfin felt the warrior move his other hand around him, bringing it up to his throat, casually letting those burly fingers dig beneath his mane. The bear encased the lion's entire neck within his grasp, gently rubbing his thumbclaw against the pulsing jugular. The prince failed to draw in a breath. The bear was silent for a while, keeping his threatening hold for a moment longer before continuing.

"But... You could also become the type of king your people really need, the kind they don't even realize they need yet. You could repair much of the generations of damage your family has caused... Never all, but you could set a new standard towards making it right, with a little help and guidance... You could lead the way your mother chose to."

The prince felt the grip on his shoulder tighten, pulling him to his feet briefly. His legs still just didn't want to work...

"Draw from me." The bear spoke with a hint of solemnity. The prince weakly shook his head and replied.

"I cannot... I have exhausted my bloodskill. 'United Strength' is beyond its limit..."

The veteran spoke again, a bit more somber this time.

"'Consume' is not."

***

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