"Fark this shit!" Cent roared as he shot up from his chair, plate clutched tight to one hand. He reared back and flung it at the Right Hand, metal disk spinning in an arc before ramming into the half giant's skull. The creature snarled as its head snapped back, ashen locks whipped into a frenzy. It clutched at its forehead, tugging frustratingly at the disk embedded into its skull.

Everything else went to shit after that. Moss flipped over the table over, silverware and crockery crashing and clattering to the floor. Elba ducked under as a flurry of arrows whistled past, embedding into the wood, into the wall behind her, into an unlucky rebel's chest as he made to run.

"Kill them!" She heard the Right Hand shouting. She peaked over the makeshift barricade, saw the towering monstrosity finally rip the plate from its skull, blood red ash seeping from the massive gash in its forehead. It pointed towards Cent, motioning for the Chosen to charge, before a chair came sailing overhead and smashed it in the face.

Cent searched for more furniture to throw as the Right Hand righted itself back up, nose broken in several places, dark bruises running up its deathly pale face. It caught the next chair with one hand, flicking it back with even greater force. Cent ducked as it sailed overhead, bursting into splinters as it collided into a rebel instead. The man barely had time to scream before he was catapulted away.

"Aurora will protect us!" The Jarl screamed over and over again, as if the mantra would truly protect him. "Aurora will protect us! Aurora will protect us!" His words were cut off as a spear shot out and snatched him by the throat, catapulting him off his feet with surprising force.

Shayn roared like a madman close by, axe chopping at anything wearing black armor, chips of broken glass clattering to the ground like scattered marbles.

Tergrid huddled near one of the corners, forming an impromptu shield wall with several others, eyes wide, teeth gritted in a furious snarl as she jabbed and sliced and stabbed.

All around Elba, men died by the score. Despite the Lightbringer's overwhelming effort and numbers, they were still clearly outmatched. Iron weapons bounced off the Chosen's armor or were easily batted aside. Skill outmatched fanaticism as droves of rebels were cut down in sweeping arcs like ocean waves against an indominable beach head.

The Chosen were slowly taking back ground, forming a line and spreading out, pushing the rebels back. Some of them had bows out now, sniping at open targets, arrows thudding into tables, walls, exposed flesh. One rebel made a mad dash for the Right Hand, sword held high in a charge. The creature didn't even draw its weapon as it grabbed the man by the throat and flung him aside. The rebel barely had time to scream before he smashed into a wall and fell bonelessly to the ground.

Elba gasped as a spear whipped past her and embedded itself into a nearby Lightbringer's chest. She ducked down, the familiar tremble of fear in her bones mixing with the wedging pain in her guts and the terrible realization of what was at stake here. She didn't have her own life to think about now. Amidst the chaos and death, new life was blooming inside her. A life that could very easily be snuffed out.

Libro's child. Their child.

How she hated herself now, thinking she could face the madness of this world with brave words and courageous thoughts alone. She should have taken Libro's offer. She should have ran back to Byzantia the moment she realized she was pregnant. At the very least, the child would have been safe, and now her selfishness had doomed them all.

The hair on Elba's neck began to prickle. She looked up, realized she was alone behind the barricade. Moss, Cent and Libro were nowhere to be found. A hand gripped the table above her, the flesh of its fingers pale and desiccated, sharp knuckles poking against the skin.

Elba looked up into dead, hungry eyes. One of the Chosen leered down at her, lips pulled back in a rictus grin. It held a sharp Black Glass sword in one hand, aiming it ever so carefully to run her clean through.

She tried to run, tried to fight, tried to do anything other than crouch there like a startled deer, but her body had gone completely numb. The Chosen's face reminded her too much of the many corpses she'd buried in the past, their faces transformed into strange, uncanny expressions. Like a nightmare made manifest.

The Chosen opened its mouth to laugh, to say some final parting words, before a blade of black star light shot past Elba. It stabbed into the creature's mouth, teeth breaking apart and scattering to the floor. The tip punched through the Chosen's skull, a cloud of ashen blood spraying out the back.

With a flourish the sword was ripped out, flashing back a second later as it sliced the Chosen's head clean off, its body crumpling to the ground in a clatter of shattered glass.

It had all happened so fast. Elba sucked in tight fistfuls of breath, mind racing as she looked up at her savior. Libro stood over her, one of the curtains burning brightly behind him, creating a halo of light around his dark, sweaty curls. There was a look in his eye she hadn't seen before. A look of pure calm despite the madness around them. As if everything was going to be all right.

And despite it all, despite the terror eating through her, despite the sheer hopelessness of everything, somewhere deep down she believed in him.

"We're getting out of here," Libro said, his voice a booming command. Like how her father used to talk.

*

"Moss! Cent! Form a farking line!" Libro roared. The two guardsmen ducked back from where they'd been flinging furniture, shields and axes at the ready.

"What's the plan?" Moss asked.

"We're getting out of here! One of you protect the right flank, the other watches over Elba!"

"Where are we supposed to go?" Cent roared, his voice barely heard over the commotion. "The rebels sealed the only farking door out of this damned tower!"

Everyone ducked as a Lightbringer went sailing past them, his scream cut off as he crunched head first to the ground.

"I know another way out! Make for the antechamber!" Libro grit his teeth and launched himself over the table before the others could protest. He hit the ground hard, legs pumping as he made straight for the door they'd initially entered from. All he needed to do was clear a path and keep running.

Easier said than done, unfortunately. By now the entire hall had turned into a literal killing ground. The barricades the rebels made had quickly been broken down. Chosen swarmed into the crowded Lightbringers in a bloody frenzy.

Jarl Kriggith hung from the wall like a punctured wine sack, blood pouring out of him in fat rivulets.

Shayn was gone, although his frantic screaming could still be heard in the crowd.

Tergrid was also missing.

The Right Hand, unfortunately, still loomed in the center of it all like the mad maestro of a deranged orchestra, cutting down rebels left and right, tearing men apart with its bare hands or tossing them aside as if they were mere playthings..

One of the Chosen charged up into view, swinging at Libro with a two handed axe. Instinct took over as Libro caught the weapon with his own, not blocking, but parrying the weapon aside as Elba had taught him long ago. The axe fell short and slammed into the ground, throwing the Chosen off balance.

Libro stepped past and with a single swipe, chopped the Chosen's hands off at the wrists. The man screamed as he fell to his knees, staring dumbly as his ashen stumps.

Libro kept running, staying focused on the goal, the antechamber door leading outside. A rebel ran past him on fire, beating uselessly at the flames, heat stinging at his eyes. He winced, failing to see another Chosen barreling straight towards him.

They collided together in a heap of glass and metal as they crunched to the floor. Libro lost his grip on the sword, terror stabbing at him as it skittered out of view. He lunged for it, snarling in pain as a boot crunched down on his hand from a flailing rebel.

A hand snaked around Libro's throat. The Chosen was on top of him, its laughter like wind racing through the branches of a dead tree as it clawed into view.

Libro tried to pull away, tried to break free, but the creature's grip was as absolute as the grave, squeezing the very life out of him. Terror raced through his veins like ice water, but this time he resisted the urge to panic. He'd been strangled before. Plenty of times, really. The effect had long since grown tiresome.

With the speed of a scorpion, Libro shot out his own hand and gripped the Chosen by the throat. They fought together like two vicious constrictors, seeing who would squeeze the life out of the other first. The Chosen smiled, thinking himself the victor, unable to see the trap Libro had planned until it was too late.

Slowly, Libro's hand began to glow, dark scars filling up with light. He felt the familiar snap of the creature's magick, the gut wrenching tug as it was reeled in. The Chosen's look of triumph quickly melted into fear as it tried to pull away, but the trap had been set, and when the hook caught it would never let go.

With a surge of adrenaline, Libro ripped the Chosen's throat out, cold light and bloody ash spilling out from the wound. Its body quickly disintegrated, losing form and substance until it was little more than dust and armor.

Libro got up, brushing himself off, the glow around his arm not going away. In fact, the shimmer above his shoulder was nowhere to be seen this time. A roar nearby stole his attention as another Chosen came charging at him, axe raised high.

Without even thinking Libro lashed out, smashing his fist against the Chosen's breastplate. Instead of blinding pain and broken knuckles as he'd expected, the armor shattered as if it had been struck by the fist of a Jotun, glass crunching as the Chosen's chest was entirely caved in. The creature went flying, soaring head over heels in the air before unceremoniously toppling to the ground and skidding away.

Libro had no time to process what had happened before Moss and Cent stepped into view and damn near dragged him the remaining way towards the exit. Elba stood nearby, tapping her foot impatiently, wet ash dripping off a hatchet she'd clearly stolen.

"What the seven hells were you thinking charging out like that?" She snapped at him, the initial panic in her voice now replaced with her familiar wifely jabbing. "I could have been a widower today because of your foolish antics!"

"A Captain has to lead by example?" Libro said.

"If we live through this I'm going to fething kill you when we get home."

"Deal, but let's try and survive today first. I fear that bastard of a Right Hand probably wants us all dead after that little stunt of ours. Speaking of which, great shot with the plate there, Cent."

"Fark all that," Cent said. "Where the seven hells is Brand? If he's still in there we have too—,"

"He's with Keela," Libro said.

Cent blanched at that. "He's what?"

"He wasn't with Tergrid when everything went to shit so more than likely the witch got to him. Probably stole him away before dinner even started."

"Why? Moss asked.

Libro puffed his cheeks, the feelings of a migraine starting to take hold. His thoughts raced for answers, but there were still too many questions, too many puzzle pieces to put into place. For now, they needed to focus on the most immediate task. Getting the hells out of there.

"We'll figure that out later. Surviving this fecking shitstorm is our first priority."

"How are we getting out of here?" Cent demanded. "We're practically trapped in this damn tower and the only way out is currently being renovated with corpses!"

"Not entirely," Libro said. The others stared at him, a mixture of fear and wariness in their eyes.

"What do you mean?" Elba asked.

"When I was taken to one of the rooms in the tower, I noticed a river running along the north eastern edges from one of the windows. It looks deep enough for us to jump into if we get a running start off one of the top floors."

"That's farking insane," Cent said, shaking his head. "We'll more than likely smash ourselves on the rocks even if we survived the fall."

"Do you have a better idea?" Libro asked, fitting the iron mask into place when hard choices had to be made. "It's either that or we smash ourselves against the madness waiting for us back in the dining hall, and I doubt the rebels are going to keep the Right Hand's soldiers at bay for very much longer."

"I'll take my chances with the fall," Moss muttered. "I'd rather die on my own terms."

Elba stared down at her stomach and winced. "Aye, I suppose there's some truth to that."

Cent's frown became a grimace as he finally realized where they stood. Stand or fall, there was no easy out today. "Ah, farking shit. Fine, I'm following you Captain."

"Damn right you are," Libro said. "Now, let's go."

By the time they'd reached the top floor, the slaughter in the dining hall had spilled out into the lower floors and was slowly beginning to edge towards them. Libro barreled up the staircase, heart leaping into his throat as he stared down the steps. Chosen and rebel alike were fighting on the lower floors, the latter happily killing the former as they began to ascend. One of them spotted Libro, smiling joylessly as he pointed up, motioning for the others to give chase.

"This way!" Libro tore off towards the north corridor, kicking in the furthest door. The room within was dark and bare, a tiny crib pushed against the wall to one side. Tiny candles flickered on a window sill facing east, soft light bouncing off the glass.

Without ceremony Libro picked up the crib and hurled it at the window, the glass easily breaking away. "Quick, get this place secure!"

Moss and Cent moved in unison, one holding the door shut before the other swung the brace down, the heavy ironwood beam fitted securely in place. The iron latches rattled not a moment too soon as Chosen swarmed against the door.

Libro peered outside, kicking away shards of broken glass. The river spat and roared down below, white foam churning along the surface. He swallowed as the cracks in his plan began to form, little doubts creeping in. Was the river actually deep enough? Would they even survive the impact? Nido's pearly white tits, what the feck was he even thinking?

The door buckled as something heavy smashed against it, the brace visibly trembling.

"They're gonna break the damn thing down!" Cent said as he reached for his axe.

"Then it's high time we get out of here!" Libro stepped out of the way. "Cent! Moss! You two go first!"

"Like hells I am!"

"Then get out of my way!" Moss said. He charged, breaking past Libro in a dead sprint as he lept from the window. His scream echoed as he fell, fading away before the inevitable splash. Libro stared out, heart thumping like mad as Moss's head appeared over the surface of the water.

"He made it! Go, Cent!"

"Ah, farking shit!" The guardsman shook his head in dismay as fear overtook sensibility and he took off in a mad sprint, jumping out the window in a similar fashion. He flailed madly in the air, body smacking into the river.

Libro didn't check to see if he'd made it. Another crash stole his attention away, the edge of a Black Glass axe peeking in from a tear in the door. Elba stared at him, lower lip trembling. She looked down at her belly, back to him, a single question frozen on her lips.

Will our child survive this?

"We'll go together," Libro said. "On three, you'll take my hand and we'll jump."

"On three," Elba repeated, face blanching with panic.

"One," Libro said. There was a crash as an axe wedged itself through a split in the door.

"Two," Elba said. Another crash as the axe cut through the ironwood brace.

"Three!" Libro took his wife by the hand as the door burst apart, feet pounding together as they charged towards the window. He could hear The Right Hand's soldier's yelling for them, heard their glass boots rattling as they chased after.

Each step felt like an eternity, every inch a hard won victory. Libro gripped Elba's hand tightly in his own. He would never let her go, never again. They were going to make it. They had to make it. For their own sake. For the sake of their future child.

Libro planted his boot against the window sill, feeling the weight in his chest give way as he prepared to jump. He could see it now, the blackened sky, the river roaring below. Just one more step and they were free.

Libro gasped as his grip on Elba was torn free, her scream like a bolt of lightning in his ears. He lurched, unable to stop himself as he smashed his shoulder against the window, momentum spinning him like a top before he ultimately tumbled over.

The last thing he saw was Elba being pulled away by one of the Chosen, one hand reaching out for him in desperation, and then he was falling, black sky filling his vision before the river swallowed him whole.

***