Minx could not remain at Winterlimb's side all day; as the acting field marshal, she had little choice but to break away from the ritual on a regular basis. Pan's meager forces had been assembled in the stretch between the city and the still-smoldering Trading Center, and the nervous survivors required her firm guidance lest they fall into disarray. A few had been dispatched as scouts, just as had been done the day before, and so far she hadn't received any concerning reports from them. The battle of the day prior, the savage weather conditions ripping across the continent and Kaleb's fiery destruction of the Trading Center had seemingly slowed the enemy's advance.
Mau remained at her side all the while, saying very little. The Faelyr knew where Minx's thoughts really were, what most concerned her, and was careful not to barge into her mind with inane talk that could distract her from the mission at hand.
During an afternoon report, one of the archers informed Minx of a suspicious sighting. “I spied a few warriors—Wuffs, I think—coming in from around the Trading Center. Four or five of them. They looked like a scouting party, but I wasn't sure. I stayed out of sight until they wandered away.”
Minx considered the report for a moment. “Four or five? Were they heavily armed?”
The archer replied, “I saw one bow among them... A few swords, too. That was all I could make out from where I was standing. I didn't want to give my position away.”
Minx turned to the Faelyr. We should strike them down before they get a whiff of our numbers. We're in a bad position—if their scouts report back to Torrent or the hunter that we're scrambling to defend ourselves, they're sure to rush in for an attack despite the weather.
Mau was in agreement. My thoughts exactly. Send two archers with me and I'll bet the three of us can get it done. In the meantime, the rest of you should fan out a little and monitor the surrounding areas—just to make sure they don't get the jump on us.
Oh, did they put you in charge? Minx shot back, a slight grin finding its way onto her lips.
Fine, we'll do as you say, Captain Minx!
Minx singled out a pair of young archers and tasked them with eliminating the enemy scouts. With Mau in tow, this would be a simple task. “I want you to work as fast as you can. Get this done and hasten back here, is that understood? Our ranks are thin. We don't want the enemy to know exactly how thin.”
Mau and the archers promptly embarked on their mission. A second wave of scouts was sent elsewhere to scope out lingering enemy warriors while Minx stealthily returned to Winterlimb. There, she stationed herself in the shade of the towering tree to check up on Kaleb.
In the interim, his suffering had only intensified.
The Elders, still chanting and moving in tandem, were wrenching the energy from Kaleb's body. By some ancient method known only to their kind, they were extracting the dragon shifter's strength, pulling it from his well-formed muscles. No longer was Kaleb content merely to grimace or writhe; he now hissed at their magical workings, shaking from head to toe.
Kaleb was just about the most powerful individual Minx had ever known. In battle, he was a fearsome threat that she herself could not hope to equal, and he had repeatedly wowed her with his feats of brutal strength. That power of his was now being leeched out, and though she'd never doubted his strength or resolve in the past, she couldn't help wondering if he could sustain the ritual for its entire duration. How much more can he take? They've only been going a little while. And even if he does survive it... what will be left of him in the end? They're taking everything from him. Even Kaleb has his limits...
Her subsequent visits to Winterlimb over the course of the afternoon and evening played out in precisely the same way, except that each visit coincided with a greater level of suffering on the subject's part. Minx met with Mau and the returning archers, who'd successfully taken care of the enemy scouts, and even picked off a few nosy Krah who'd wandered too close to the perimeter she was enforcing, but her brief returns to the site of the ritual left her more panicked and queasy than any battle had ever done.
They're killing him, she thought as the sun began dropping out of the sky. He should never have gone through with this. He won't make it... he won't survive. Minx dropped down onto the grass, sidling up beside Mau. She couldn't stand on her own two feet; the world beneath her felt as though it was spinning out of control. There was no way for her to ease his suffering, as interfering with the ritual could have grave consequences. It felt grotesque to sit idly by while the love of her life struggled a short distance away.
Why does it have to be this way? she asked herself—then, thinking better of it, she tried reaching out to the one entity who could actually answer the question. Never before had Minx sought to contact Heilo Lake of her own accord. She wasn't even sure it was possible, not the least because of Torrent's recent tainting of the waters. But as she sat there beside Mau, stifling a sob, she called out to the lake with all her heart, wishing for a reply. Why does it have to be this way? Why a dragon... Why him? Couldn't there have been some other way?
Aside from the sounds of the ritual—Kaleb's constant suffering and the low chants of the Elders—the area was quiet as night set in. Mau began dozing off as Minx struggled against
