Evie finds she’s breathing laboriously despite the minimal exertion of the last few moments. It’s not fear. Evie finds she’s left fear somewhere far behind without realizing it. Perhaps it’s the knowledge, banished somewhere in the dungeons of her mind, that she’s given herself over fully to what was only meant to be a role she’d play until locating Brio. Ashana the retainer and bodyguard is now Evie, a Savage Legionnaire who ambushes men and women under cover, and slaughters them before they know what’s happening.

And perhaps it wouldn’t affect her so if a large part of Evie didn’t find satisfaction in this killing.

With no way to quickly and efficiently conceal the heavily armored bodies, Evie and Mother Manai leave them where they lie and calmly walk from between the two tents. The center of the camp is largely deserted, and what soldiers and pages are there are to be seen running through the space en route to join one battle or another. Evie and Mother Manai can hear fighting in every direction now, steel clashing with steel and the screams of the fighting and the dying a familiar symphony to them both.

The two of them find another spot with enough cover to shade their next ambush from the sight of any passersby. The pounding in Evie’s ears only grows louder, entire mountain ranges being pulverized to dust between her temples. They waylay half a dozen more soldiers, picking most of them off one at a time as they scatter from one fracas or another in confusion. Evie ceases to hear the voices of the dying, or focus on their eyes as the slash or thrust of her blade darkens them eternally.

It seems to her as though much more time has passed than actually has when Evie feels Mother Manai rapping the empty fist of her gauntlet against the back scales of Evie’s armor. She turns to see the older woman’s lips moving, but somehow it is several moments before she hears her words.

“Look here, love! They’re bein’ pushed back! It’s just like you said it would be!”

Mother Manai guides her to the edge of their concealment to peer out at what looks like stragglers joining the end of a heavy retreat.