After their decisive victory over Orinovo, Lys-Akkaria's army crosses the border to take back territory that used to be theirs. With the combined forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger, Orinovo doesn't stand a chance.
In spite of their newfound a...
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It seemed that Orinovo itself had realized what they were planning because so far, there hadn't been that much opposition stopping their march on the capital, likely meaning that the queen was calling her soldiers there to protect her instead. Ainreth couldn't say he was surprised by this given that Neven had run off, which meant that he'd definitely told her everything, and also due to the queen generally not being above letting her subjects deal with the Lys-Akkarian army on its own when it meant protecting herself.
Ain should be happy about this, too, because it meant that fewer people would be getting hurt by them, fewer casualties on both sides, but he wasn't, namely due to the hungry glint he'd seen in some of the other generals' eyes. The misborns wanted to use this as an excuse to grab territory. He just knew it.
Not to mention that Varilik was up to something. Ainreth hated that his words made sense because he had nothing to prove to Fennrin that something was going on, but he was sure there was.
The fact that the Herald was here was strange in and of itself. This was war, they were on enemy territory on the first lines, and while, yes, they were beating Orinovo at every turn, and the Herald's presence was boosting morale, much to Ainreth's irritation, it was still strange for him to be here.
Orinovo had attacked them several times now during the night, most likely partly because Ainreth couldn't use his powers then, and partly the soldiers didn't wear their indestructible armor while sleeping. This forced them to increase the number of people guarding their camps and finding well defensible places to set those camps up until they could be sure that they wouldn't lose people to ambushes. Varilik could have died during one of those, and while Ainreth would have certainly not shed any tears over that, it wouldn't be good for their country in the least.
But who cared, he supposed. If that old misborn wanted to die, then he could go right ahead. Ain was sure they'd elect someone new quickly. What worried him more was Fennrin. Namely his constantly growing power.
At first Ainreth had been supportive of it. It was nice to see Fenn be so self-assured and strong. But now that he was killing dozens of Orinovan soldiers at once without batting an eye, Ainreth couldn't help but wonder how that was affecting him mentally. But unfortunately, he hadn't had a chance to bring it up because every time he did, it became a discussion about if what they were doing here was right, which Fenn always won because he was right, dammit.
What were they supposed to do? Go home and hope Orinovo wouldn't attack again, potentially with a force not even the joint forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger could defeat? But that didn't mean he had to like this.
And not to mention that just because Fenn was incredibly powerful didn't mean he wouldn't get hurt or worse. Both of them were the ideal targets for Orinovan soldiers because without them, Lys-Akkaria would lose.
But they couldn't stay away because Lys-Akkaria's army wouldn't be able to stand on its own. It was a very annoying predicament, and a stressful one at that. Ainreth wasn't used to worrying about specific people while on the battlefield like this. Sure, he'd always worried about Petre, but no one was trying to actively go after them.
