Evania Zerea's pulse was racing when she was escorted from the room, where the other's who had been boosted like she had been were all being kept away. They took up to the front wall and her heart stopped dead in her chest when she faced what awaited her. There were two men standing at the front of a giant podium in the middle of thousands of people filling the expanses of fields past the barriers of Roarhaven. Both men were blonde, one older than the other and a lot shorter and fatter. The hundreds of rows containing thousands of sorcerers stared impassively up at them. Up at her. At that moment staring out at the numbers of fully grown, dangerous sorcerers she felt hopeless. She felt like a child again. Like she was hiding in the bathtub praying her Mother wouldn't find her and burn her again. Afraid of the pain. But she was a grown woman now. She'd lost both her parents and she wasn't a little child. She wasn't a little girl. She was a mage of her own and she could take care of herself. These thoughts made her stand a little straighter. She knew what her role was, and she could make a big difference in this war. She was seated at her position and she awaited the green light. Of all the terrible things her mother had given her, at least she'd passed on her telepathic powers.
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As they stood, time dragging by as they waited for the first move of the attack to be made, for war to be officially declared and for the firing to open-up, Fletcher and Andena scanned the enemy crowds together, coming upon some familiar faces that shouldn't be there. That shouldn't be able to be there.
Right in the front line was Mevolant himself with his three generals. Lord Vile stood in his armour, shadows curling around his dark frame. Baron Vengeous also stood there emotionless with a slackened face as pale and sickly as a turning vampire. And Nefarious Serpine with his disgusting red right hand of wet muscle. There were people in the crowd who were definitely dead.
"How is that even possible?" Andena gawked as she caught sight of a young blonde woman in a hooded cloak with ruins scarred into her pale skin. "Melancholia St Clair wasn't in the other reality and she's dead in ours."
Fletcher was about to say he had no clue when he realized he did. The answer lay with the girl standing at the back of the podium. A girl who had betrayed them all. "Alice. She time traveled with Vivi and brought them all back for Hansard. She must have, it's the only way this can be possible." He answered, and his eyes searched for Viviana Vixen.
"She's over there," Andena nodded, and surely enough, the dark-haired girl with obsidian eyes was being led by yet another villain, Springheeled Jack, to stand on the opposite side of the podium as Alice. "I wonder why they're keeping Alice and Vivi apart."
Fletcher was about to answer but he bit down on his tongue at the sight of another girl in the enemy crowd holding the sceptre of the ancients in her burgundy clothes with her dark hair whipping across her face in the light wind. Her dark eyes bore into him as he stared and he forced himself to look away. She was dead. She was gone. But she was standing down there. This was cruelty to a new level. Now he fully understood why all these people were brought back. It was one final dig at them. One extra level of torture to put them through as they saw the ghosts of their memories come back to life on the field in front of them.
"Fletcher, are you okay?" Andena's voice brought him back to reality and he shook the white noise from his head.
Azealia Raven exchanged looks through the crowd with the sorcerers she'd recruited for her cause as she waited for the right time to strike. She'd planned everything meticulously and there was no way this could go wrong. The dark-haired, dark-eyed woman nodded to her and she dipped her chin slightly, careful of being caught. They were ready.
