Integrity. Humility. Bravery. Compassion. Sacrifice.

The Five Pillars of the Watch. Words made deep with meaning in the fight to defend Brinelm from the firebeasts. The burning of these pillars into the flesh of a new recruit symbolizes their commitment to up hold them.

Helena's collection of the Five Pillars rings her right forearm, burning from road rash as it drags against the dirty streets. She lashes out, kicking her feet, violently struggling to loosen her capture's grip on her legs.

She gets one leg free and plants a firm kick to the man's crotch.

"Bloody hell!" the man releases her other foot, keeling over in pain.

Jumping to her feet, Helena reaches for her mech-sword at her hip only to remember it's gone. Taken from her by that traitorous prick.

Two pairs of strong hands grab her by the arms, yanking her back with painful force. She screams in frustration. There's too many of them and she's exhausted from the fight with the firebeast earlier. Even with her mech, she would be hard pressed to fight her way out of this one.

Still, she struggles against the two men as they continue dragging her forward, further and further into the center of the town. Only a few people watch the show. Most of the townspeople are more concerned with grabbing their stuff and getting out of town. However, those that do catch her eye from the edge of the street spit on the ground or yell some profanity she can't hear over her own.

"Honestly, Helena. Show some restraint." Redern's slick, traitorous voice causes a tremor of hate to roll down her spine as he comes up behind her. "You still represent the Watch. Even a Scout turned traitor should be able to die with some dignity."

"Don't tell me how to behave as a Scout, you sick, pig of a traitor!" Helena wants nothing more than spit into his perfectly manicured beard, but he stays behind her and well out of range.

"Serious accusations coming from the woman with a follow Scout's blood on her hands."

"Here, Captain?" one of the men holding her asks Redern. They've stopped in front of the Verndale Haven, the local community bar. One that Helena has spent many evenings laughing away the hours with good friends and fellow Scouts.

Now though, it holds a more sinister aura. The flames of some far off buildings reflect in the upper windows of the bar. Her stomach drops and she tugs at the hands that constrain her again, but they continue to hold strong.

"This will do," Redern replies. "Tie her to the post, there. Make it tight, she's a slippery one."

"I will hunt you down, Redern," Helena barely fights the bonds being fastened tight against her wrists, tying her to the post of the building. Her full attention is zeroed in on the face of her Captain. "I will prove to everyone what a worthless traitor you really are. I swear to it."

Redern approaches Helena where she stands, hands bound to the post that is supporting the awning of the entrance. He takes her mech-sword, which he has been carrying this whole way, and drives it into the ground in front of her. It stands just out of reach, taunting her. Then he leans in close, his lips near her ear as he whispers, "I'm not afraid of ghosts."

The words hang in the air between them as the sounds of screams and fire crackling echo in the distance. The threat is clear. She is meant to die here. She is going to die. Here.

Helena cracks her head hard against the side of Redern's face and he yells in pain, lurching away from her. The side of her head throbs horribly, but Redern's swearing as blood drips through his fingers around his nose makes it all worth it. She smiles a toothy grin, despite everything else.

"Come on," Redern turns his back to her, hiding his angry scowl from her gaze. "Let's leave this traitor to her fate."

Over Redern's shoulder, Helena spies a familiar face. Sarai. Her blood goes hot again.

"And you, too!" she yells.

Their eyes lock and Sarai's look empty, almost remorseful. For a moment, Helena believes maybe there's hope. Maybe her friend has only been playing along with this madness in order to step in at the last minute and help her.

Then Sarai turns her back and follows the others.

Helena growls like a trapped and beaten animal. She pulls ruthlessly at her bonds, throwing insults like knives at their backs with each pointless tug. "You're just as much a traitor as him! You'll get what's coming! Both of you! You have abandoned your oaths and that will not go unpunished!"

The group reaches the end of the street and turns down another alley, leaving the town with everyone else. Pretty soon it'll be just her as the firebeasts roam the city, burning it to the ground.

She strains against her bonds, this time with more care. She tries different angles, testing it for a single weakness of any kind. It appears the Scout did his job well, however. The bond holds tight against her wrists and she gets no closer to freedom. Her mech remains just out of reach no matter how hard she stretches.

Frustration builds inside her, but her body is weary. Hopelessness sets in after only a few minutes and she sinks to the ground.

The screeching of the firebeasts gets louder, moving ever closer into the center of town. There's a shop up in flames a few buildings down the street. It is only a matter of time until the bar catches fire, too.

She wonders what will kill her first. The flames of Verndale falling apart, or the jaws of one of the beasts?

***

Darkness. When Helena awakes she can't see a thing.

Thinking that perhaps her eyes are still closed, she tries to open them. Immediately, a raging pain laces up through the side of her face drawing a moan from deep within her.

The voices go quiet. Murmurs she hadn't even noticed were there until their absence leaves only silence. She tenses, aware that an enemy could be only inches away in this pitch black space. Every muscle aches in response, but she's prepared to jump up from where she's lying even though every synapse in her body screams that won't be possible. She will not be caught off guard.

"Is she awake?" one voice braves the silence to ask the other. This voice is that of a young woman, but not one Helena recognizes.

The soft touch of a hand grazes against Helena's cheek and she flinches.

"Shhh," another voice murmurs. "You're safe here."

This voice belongs to a woman as well, but one older than the first. Her voice is heavy with the years it has seen, but kind. Gentle.

"Mathilde, fetch me the water and a clean sponge," the older voice says.

The sound of footsteps on hardwood flooring comes from nearby and Helena is amazed the woman can find her way in the darkness. Until a new sensation occurs to her. A cloth of some kind hugs tighten against her forehead and over her eyes. There isn't a darkness all around her, she's been blindfolded.

No, not a blindfold. A bandage. Why would she need a bandage?

The sound of water sloshing in a bucket near her head steers her thoughts back towards the two women in the room.

"I'm going to place this sponge to your mouth for you to drink from," the older woman gives her a warning this time, sensitive to Helena's blindness. "Your mouth is very dry and damaged. It may hurt, but we need to get water back into your body."

Moments later a cool, damp sponge presses lightly against Helena's lips. It stings, but her body's ache for water far overpowers whatever pain the sponge causes. She can barely move her lips, let alone open her mouth to let any real amount of water in to wet her parched throat. However, the woman patiently wets and rewets the sponge. Slowly, droplets succeed in permeating Helena's lips and when the woman finally hands the sponge back to the younger woman Helena's mouth and throat are not so dry as before.

The woman caresses Helena's cheek again and this time she doesn't flinch. The coolness of the woman's hand feels comforting while the rest of her skin is hot, painful even.

"Rest now," she says. "Your body needs rest. We will watch over you while you sleep. No one will hurt you here."

Something in the back of Helena's mind screams not to trust this woman, to trust no one, but she doesn't have the strength to care. Fatigue weighs heavily throughout her body and despite the pain beginning to flare up across her face, she drifts slowly into a deeper darkness.

***

There's fire everywhere she looks. Verndale burns bright orange with flames and the sound of screaming fills the air around her.

She stands alone in the Square, her mech gripped tightly in both hands as her eyes scan the flames and shadows. The smoke makes it impossible to see further than a few feet beyond where she is standing.

Where is he?

"No one will believe you." Redern's voice whispers in her ear.

She swipes out with her mech, swinging around to face him.

Her sword meets another, shooting pain up her arm with the sudden end to its momentum. Her eyes travel up to meet those of her opponent.

Sarai stares back at her, her face drawn in passive concentration.

"Put your sword down, Helena. It's over."

Helena grips her mech harder. "Why are you defending him?"

"Put it down." Sarai's mech-sword springs to life, electricity humming down its blade.

"No." The hum of her own sword join's the sounds around them and she takes a step forward.

Then Sarai's gone. The world shifts and Helena's suddenly standing in the forest. In front of her now is the firebeast. Its deep purple scales shimmering as it flicks its split tongue at her. Six feet long and only four feet tall, its size warrants barely more intimidation than a large dog. That means nothing, though.

She grips her electrified sword and runs at it, yelling at the top of her lungs.

The beast lets out its own shrill screech and bares its fangs. Its chest glows faintly, growing brighter by the second. She has only a few more moments before things get complicated.

Dodging a swing from the beast's sharp talons, she adjusts her stance and plunges her sword towards the chest of the beast. The maneuver is as familiar as breathing. She's done this a hundred times. Her sword will not miss.

The scene shifts before her once more. The beast morphs into the Scout, his face young and eyes determined. His chest in the exact spot the beast's had been moments before.

Her sword does not miss.