Epilogue

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Victory cries sounded through the air, the heavy air of battle lifting.

Setial led these cries, throwing his exhausted arms up and relishing in the fact that they had won.

He knew that both sides had taken a heavy hit, but they had managed to come out on top. Barely.

Avaviles had broken through so many lines and the castle had been breached at a few points. Setial was tiring and losing the will to fight.

Then, it happened.

Hundreds of allies from Theaccuthia and returning soldiers from Caben had gotten their messages. They came to help.

The fighters swept across the battlefield, killing most of the opposers, leaving Setial and many other reinvigorated soldiers and knights to finish off the rest. Their allies even combed through the castle and took care of all of those left! Although Setial very seriously doubted many made it in, likely just a few who managed to slip inside with all the confusion of the fighting.

As Setial threw his head back, yelling in victory, sweat, dirt, and blood painted across his face, he couldn't help it. The image of him, laying naked on his bed, soft brown eyes widening in anticipation, waiting to be taken popped into his head, which he admitted to himself with little shame was a big motivator for him while fighting.

However, that would have to wait. First, he had to go through the very sweet task of announcing their victory to their father, whose old battle wounds and other ailments prevented him from fighting.

Putting his arms down, the motion making them feel like they were about to fall off, he walked back towards the main entrance of the castle, adrenaline making his tired legs move with purpose and without shaking.

He tried to ignore the many bodies piled up along the way, although being careful not to step on an arm or torso (unless, of course, if they belonged to a soldier from Avaviles), he saw several people moving on the ground, but didn't stop to help. Several physicians and their many assistants they had taken on when news of impending battle reached them would be running around and helping. He could see a few in the distance, bent over and saving who they could. They wouldn't be able to save all of those who could be saved, there were too little of them, but they would do what they could.

Once inside the castle, his surroundings really did fall away. His only goal took over his mind, getting to his father and giving him the report. Then, he'd be free to do whatever, well, he shouldn't have been, but he would leave all that to Ezorah, who should've been doing what he did in the first place. His lips curled in disgust thinking about him, but quickly fell into a soft smile thinking about what—or should he say who—he would be doing after. He had earned it, after all. It didn't matter that he was tired, he had fought in an impossible battle and survived, no, won, for him, and for what they would do after. There was no way he was letting a little thing like his energy level affect that.

In what felt like a lifetime later, even though it was only a few minutes, Setial reached the room where his father, his bastard, and several of the other staff and nobles had holed up. Many guards stood around the door, obviously placed there specially to protect them. Setial wanted to scoff or be visibly disgusted by his supposed half-brother's cowardice, but he was too excited to just get through all this.

The doors were open at this point and several people, including his father, were out in the wide hall in front of them. They turned to look at Setial as he walked up to them though.

"We have suffered a great loss of good men. But their sacrifice was not in vain! With the help of Theaccuthian soldiers, we have emerged victorious!" All those years of shouting in the throne room, and the dining room, and his fathers study, and so many other places had actually found a way to pay off. He wasn't even breathless from that.

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