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The podium was in shambles. The foundations below were blown away, leaving it slowly caving in on itself. Iris could no longer look at the wreckage, keeping her eyes focused on the battle below.
Help the boys.
She watched as Tommy fought against Techno. Sword against sword, hitting in swift movements. Parries and direct blows were seen by both sides. Tommy was holding up well against Techno, but without assistance, he would wear thin against the trained warrior's stamina.
Dread ran down the back of her neck. Iris knew she could not help him. Not when she needed to cling to Phil's cloak for support. But that didn't stop her mind racing as she patted her leather baldric across her chest. She huffed, feeling no small vials of potions left. Maybe if she got more of that miracle syrup from the tall blonde, she could fulfil Wil's last request.
Wobbling away from Phil's side, she straightened her battered chestplate looking hopefully into his eyes. "I need more of your homemade potion," he glanced at the redhead, eyes tight and worried. Iris tore away from his direct gaze, looking down upon the carnage below.
There was an enormous creator that stretched through the heart of the nation. Both sides were subjected to war. Although she could not see them, she could hear the otherworldly screeches and explosions of Withers. The forbidden summoning magicks that she learnt as a young girl.
She quickly glanced back at the man who helped her and knew the answer was a no. And with probable good reason, seeing her mind was clouded and hazy from so many potions running through her system. Her sense of judgement was probably askew; however, that did not stop her.
The redhead nodded curtly, shuffling over to a nearby tree and began stripping her armour off of her. Unfortunately, the sheer impact of the explosion caused her freshly crafted armour to be rendered useless. The metal never was enchanted to withstand a blast. Her hands retightened her baldric, which held her axe and a few daggers, the only thing left on her body.
Philza just watched the defeated woman lay her armour across the long grass. He was going to say something but was interrupted.
"Help them for me," Iris pleaded. "There is a young blonde and brunette, their names are Tommy and Tubbo respectively. Help them against the one who wears the royal gown."
He wanted to tell her that he already knew them. Knew them from a time, long ago. However, he abstained. The blonde bobbed his head up and down, acknowledging her request. And with that, he turned and descended the hill.
