A word from divine lips shall seal the pact and send forth the armies of the Greater Goddess to defeat all evil upon the land.

Seer Dolastati, A Vision in Embers

"Daphney!" The urgent cry stung at her brain as she trudged back into the encampment upon weary legs. Alongside her equally exhausted horse, the cleric tried to focus as a young woman, not any old than she was, ran towards her.

"Sali? What's wrong?"

"It's Rwan." The woman tugged on Daphney's sleeve, begging her to follow as the de facto leader of the rebellion came to realize there was an abnormal amount of activity buzzing about.

Nothing could stop the cleric from finding renewed strength born on necessity as her legs churned under her. The hem of her dress pulled up to keep from tripping, Daphney took off leaving both Trast and Kilan in her wake and to piece together what she already knew was not good news.

"There's nothing you can do," she heard Kilan call after her. "Miss Crenst!"

She didn't care, pushing through the humanity that stood mulling around the ratty tent where she had left Rwan before departing on another mission to win over one more rebel faction. She'd abandoned his side, but only because his fever appeared to have gotten better. He'd been lucid, fully aware, and alert when she left a week ago.

But upon erupting into the tent, Daphney realized that he'd taken a turn for the worse. A man and a woman, both in common clothes, were standing over Rwan's still body. Their heads bowed, both started at the suddenness of her entrance. Neither were a cleric, as Daphney was, nor were they trained medics, but they were the best available option to take care of him while she was away and based on what training Daphney had imparted to them.

"Parker? Dilane?" The cleric could only manage their names as she closed the final distance. With every step, she hoped to see even the shallowest of rise and fall to Rwan's chest, or gather the slightest bit of sensation that there was an ounce of life left within him. But, as each stride led to the next, her hope sank. "When? How?"

Parker recovered his wits first and went to Daphney as she dropped at Rwan's side. "It happened last night. I was with him. He just stopped breathing."

Hands searching for anything other than cold clamminess to Rwan's fingers, Daphney could find no trace that her fears were not truth. Had she thought, even remotely, that this would have resulted from her departure, she would never have left. "The Rebellion is doomed." Sorrow leaked out of Daphney with those words. "Without Rwan, there will not be peace between the factions. All that I say will do no good."

"That's not what I would expect from you." Daphney didn't even turn as Kilan scolded her upon entering the tent, followed by Trast. "Definitely not from the woman who leveled Ubuer Yawin as though he was an oak before the lumberjack's axe. Not from the woman that just negotiated a new treaty with Gwen Havarston and the Estronian Faction either."

"Not now, Kilan."

"Not now?" He scoffed. "Then when? We can't give up. Rwan wanted you to carry on in his place. He had faith in you."

Angry words erupted out of Daphney, directed at her gruff bodyguard. "You want to point to two successes as proof that I am some sort of leader?" She turned and spun to face him, letting venom fly. "I'm not. Why don't we talk about all my failures? Sec Devar still refuses to come to table. As does the White Conclave and the Caucus of Westland. And there are more than a dozen minor cells that want nothing to do with the Rebellion without Rwan at its head."

Kilan breathed in once and let it out. Then in again. "You know, if you spent half of the energy you just did making excuses on actually convincing people that you were worth following, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Kilan-" Trast tried to intercede with a bit of calm.

"Don't start, Trast. She needs to hear this. Seems like no matter how many times Earoni proves to her she's meant to lead, Miss Crenst doesn't want to listen. With the Estronians on your side, along with Clan Cheluthic, and the men commanded by Tessis Bai, The Northern Coalition, and Jein Carso, you have half the Rebellion behind you."

Daphney bowed her head. "That won't be enough."

"The others would be fools not to come around," the until now silent Dilane spoke up and added her support to what Kilan was trying to say. "Especially as word gets out about how you made a fool out of Ubuer. They can not deny your right to lead us."

"Why is it that everyone thinks because I wear these robes that everybody will simply fall into line? It doesn't work that way. Most people don't even believe anymore."

Trast stood tall. "All they need is a reason to believe. And you are that reason. Not people like me. Not people like Rwan." Then he added towards Kilan, "Certainly not people like him."

To which Kilan snorted with an as-if-I-cared-about-that attitude.

"I'm not a leader!" Daphney exploded. She turned away, biting the skin on her knuckles as fear swept over her. "I'm sorry, Trast. I just can't do it. You must understand. I can speak of the Greater Goddess and her glory. And I can perform what most would consider miracles, but I cannot lead."

As Kilan wanted to add to the argument, a man threw open the flaps of the tent. "Revered Cleric, there are people here to see you."

Daphney rolled her eyes. "Who?"

"I believe the man who spoke for them said his name was Sec Devar?"

"What?" Daphney started to find her way out of the tent, and the man held the flap open for her. "I swear by the Greater Goddess, if he's come here to lay claim to leadership of the Rebellion before Rwan's body is even cold-" She let her words trail off, the rest remaining unspoken.

There was quite a commotion brewing outside as a contingent of tall, armored men on horseback pushed through the crowd and towards the tent and her. Banners of brown bearing an inverted golden triangle flowed from their spears held in each man's right hand and in near unison with the strides of their mounts. The rider at the fore commanded the reins of a black stallion and wore a helm with a T-shaped gap for his eyes, nose, and mouth that sported a full crimson plume cascading all around his face.

Daphney halted, as did the intruders, once she stood nose to nose with the lead rider's horse. The animal appeared to not enjoy being restrained and controlled, but also seemed resigned that it had little choice in the matter.

As the leader held his spear out to his side, another of the riders with him took it, allowing him to dismount with a fluid and graceful motion. Two long auburn braids down his back twisted in concert with his movements. Once to the ground, his horse tried to bolt. But with a minor twist of the halter which his master still held on to, the stallion ceased its struggles.

"Daphney Crenst?" A voice like a wide, rushing river came from the man as he towered before her.

"I am."

"Forgive me," he dipped in to a slight bow. "I am-"

"I know who you are, Sec Devar. What do you want?"

Her bluntness stunned him. Requiring a moment to compose himself at being interrupted, Sec Devar handed over control of his mount to another soldier in the contingent. The fiery horse could immediately tell the command upon him was not as strong and started to renew its struggle for freedom. It failed to gain what it sought, but still caused many of the onlookers nearby to step back. Especially when it repeatedly tried to rear up.

"I have come to talk," he informed her.

"Talk? Your response to my last request was quite rude." Then she reminded him of his reply. "I believe your exact words were that you would never bow down before a 'pathetic she-child'?"

A suffocating silence followed where only Sec Devar's unhappy horse made any sound. The leader of the procession removed his helm and held it out before him, as if wanting Daphney to take it. When she didn't, he encouraged her to do so. "Please."

"What do you want me to do with that?"

"Whoever wears this crown commands all the soldiers of Banalr, The Great Southern Lands. Every rider and their spear, every bow, and every sword." He then knelt and held the helm aloft for her.

There was a collective gasp from all of those assembled at the display, even as the riders with him remained stoic. They seemed to know what was coming and were prepared for it.

"I... I don't understand. You didn't want to-"

"I have been made to see the truth," he spoke, turning his eyes to the ground. "I've had a vision of a dark-haired angel. She appeared to me and charged me to bring these men to you."

"A dark-haired-" Daphney gasped.

He brought his eyes up. "Yes. She was very... uh... very convincing. She said that you would lead the victory against Lord Hedric. She also said all who refused to join in unity against the Blood Lord's rule would share his fate." Sec Devar held the helmet out a little further. "I pledge to you all we have."

Although hesitant at first, Daphney took the gaudy piece of armor in her hands, uncertain what to do next as Sec Devar lowered his eyes once more.

"You've got to put it on." Kilan's voice brought her out of her daze.

"What?"

He was just standing there, arms folded, as if expecting her to understand. "It's the way they coronate a new leader in Banalr. You can't lead until you wear the crown. And after this, I don't want to hear you ever again say that people won't follow you. Do you understand me?"

It took Daphney a moment, but she slowly raised the helm Sec Devar called a crown and lowered it onto her head, listening to what Kilan said she had to do. And when she did, the warriors the former leader of Banalr had brought all cheered in unison, sealing the pact with a roar that silenced any doubt as to who they would follow.