Up close, Qarasi Castle looked far more impressive than it had from within the central army's camp. Like the winding curves of a snake, the smooth, gray walls towered above Yucao, into the sky. His stomach contracted, and he felt reminded of a giant, gray leviathan, laid around the castle to obstruct their path. However, even in the face of mythical beasts Yucao had no fear. For he was one of the great climbers of House Pluritac, and his mission was to scale Qarasi Castle. All his life he had been trained for this very purpose, so what was there to be afraid of? Even more, he could count on the support from his many brothers.

With a look around, Yucao saw many warriors march on the castle, climbers like himself. Compared to the stocky builds of the core troops, the climbers were fast and nimble, with powerful arms. Their unique training and cultivation made it easy for them to close in on enemy structures, and allowed them to scale any sort of wall with ease. Like shock-troops in an open field, the climbers were trained to overwhelm the defenses of defensive structures. Even more so, their greatest strength lay in the capture of understaffed castles, like the one before them.

After he saw his spirited allies look up towards the crest of the gray walls, their goal, he looked down onto his own equipment, a frown on his face. Rather than his usual rope and claw, he had been left with nothing but a torch and a clay jug of oil. According to their commander, the new walls of Qarasi were made of paper, so his role this time was to burn them and produce chaos on the walls. However, there was no glory in burning down men of Medala. His glory was his cry of triumph once he had conquered the enemy's walls, or their gates. When he had proven that there was no obstacle too high for his bravery was when he had fulfilled his purpose and brought glory upon his family.

Instead, other men would have this honor. According to the plans of the generals, the four hundred climbers before him and would take fire for him and the others stuck with torches. They would keep the enemy busy until he could reach the walls and burn them to the ground. However, Yucao was sure that his own services would not be required. Rather, they might just get in the way. With the construction of these additional walls, their enemies had created countless spots for their claws to attack, countless spots to climb. How could a small garrison like the one inside Qarasi ever hold them back if they spread themselves so thin?

If they began to burn the walls when their own men were already on top, it would only cause casualties among their own men, his own fellow climbers. While Yucao envied his fellows for their chance at glory, he wasn't petty enough to kill them over it.

Even more, he was unwilling to attack the castle in the first place. After all, he had been trained to spread the glory of House Pluritac. How could he be happy about an attack on Pluritac land? Even though King Pachacutec was his nominal ruler, he wasn't comfortable with an attack on the eldest son of the emperor.

Thus, as they received their orders to charge the castle and fulfill their purpose, he held back, and fell behind his company. It wasn't hard, since the chaos of war had gripped the Narrows already. Once he had fallen behind his company, he found enough space to observe the horrible massacre that was about to unfold.

At first, the climbers decided to attack the base of the star-shaped walls, close to the castle proper. If they could climb these spots, they would soon reach the center of the castle, and they would also leave walls behind themselves for their allies to attack. However, as soon as they stepped between the gray star walls of Qarasi, all hell broke loose. Bangs from above announced the arrival of gunfire, and soon the first of House Pluritac's famous climbers lost his life. As if stung by an invisible monster, his body twitched into a stiff posture. He stumbled a few more steps, before he fell to the ground, a bloody hole in the back of his head. Soon screams of agony filled the air as the warriors of Pluritac fell to the ground. Even then, for everyone they lost another two would take their place, like an endless flood.

This much resistance they had expected. Their lord had already seen these weapons called matchlocks in action during the succession war, and would have been prepared for their impact on the battle. Unperturbed, the climbers rushed ahead, as archers did the same. In fact, the archers were similar in build to Yucao's compatriots, and they often trained together. Though of course they were far less mobile, as they would often hide behind infantry to do their damage.

Soon the sacrifices of the climbers had allowed them to rush into the empty space between the two walls. Bows tensed, they began to pepper both sides with arrows, to force the enemy troops into cover and reduce the impact of the matchlocks.

However, the foreign warriors atop the walls still wouldn't let up. Even though he was no scout, Yucao's eyes were still better than most and he could see the problem right away: All throughout the archer's barrage, the enemy muskets could stay behind cover to reload. They would only surface for the actual shot and could then hide once more. Unlike a bow, the new guns were perfect for sieges. The enemy wouldn't have to remain standing throughout the entire reloading process. Thus, even though the archers were better trained and fired much faster than their enemies atop the walls, they failed to suppress the fire of the defenders.

While the musket men had been busy with the archers, the climbers had made their way all the way across the battlefield, and onto the foot of the castle walls. Soon they threw their claws, but a surprising amount failed to connect with the top. Many wouldn't hook onto anything up above, and fall back down without purpose. Something must have been odd about the walls to reduce the effectiveness of the hooks. As battle progressed, the screams from among the ranks of Yucao's allies increased even further. Although he couldn't see the foot of the wall well through the chaos of battle, this made no sense. How could the climbers still get attacked? Weren't the gun weapons near useless when the enemy was right below? Wouldn't the ball ammunition slip from the barrel? That was one reason all traditional Medalan walls were built at a slant: It made fire much more comfortable for the defenders, be it stone, arrow or gun.

However, the enemy seemed to have no trouble with their straight walls. Despite their bravery, the climbers had little success. Halfway up the walls, several men forced their way up towards their claws, but wouldn't find purpose. Once more Yucao saw a climber fall off his perch. Not even his rope up above had been cut. Instead, the man just screamed and fell from a deadly height, as if struck by invisible lightning. This was no attack, no glorious storm for the warriors of Pluritac. It was a slaughter.

At last Yucao's feet sped up again. All this time he had kept back, to not get in the way of his own allies. However, now he decided to rush forward. Even if the fires were a double-edges sword, at least they would bind many of the attackers who would be busy with attempts to stem the flames, while the smoke would reduce visibility for the enemy gunmen.

Only now did Yucao realize he had stood there for minutes, stock-still. His first step felt like his legs stuck in knee-high mud, but with every step his vigor returned. Determined to save the great climbers of Pluritac, Yucao rushed ahead. Past the archers, who had scattered from the fierceness of the enemy fire. Their formation gone, they hid behind bodies and debris, many of them bleeding and injured. Many others came across him on their flight away from the battle field. Most wouldn't have the stomach for this type of warfare. Of course, Yucao was different. He was a climber, the elite siege storm of House Pluritac.

Further he rushed, past the corpses of his fallen comrades, men just as brave as he. Someone held onto his leg, a bloody hand attached to a dying man.

No time.

Rather than comfort one man's spirit, he would save many. Now his mission was more important than a life, more important than anything. A deadly projectile whizzed past his ear as he stepped over his dying comrade, and another ten steps down. As soon as the walls surrounded the warrior, the air was filled with angry bees of lead, ready to sting to death whoever would dare venture into their lands. Even so he pressed on unperturbed, as the blood rushed in his ears and a mix of sweat and dirt took the sight in his left eye. Many of his allies had made it to the walls, and so would he.

At last, he reached his goal, his companions. There they were, huddled together at the foot of the walls, and at last Yucao understood why their attacks had failed. Rather than focus on the enemy up above, their vulnerable backs were turned to the gray paper walls, towards the walls across. Once more the shots whizzed past his head, and at last he began to understand. His allies hadn't died from attackers above, they had died from attackers across.

While his feet worked still on their own, his head turned. In horror he saw another company of climbers, across a gap of death, as they were huddled together just the same as the men on their own side. Over a distance of no more than 100 feet, the two halves of the army stared at each other from behind shields, watched each other die one by one. Like this, they would soon break and lose everything, their lives and their honor. Luckily, there was something Yucao could do.

“Out of my way!” he screamed, and pushed his body past their formation, always closer to his final goal. If only he could reach the paper walls, if only he could turn them to fire, the climbers would still have a chance. He wouldn't earn any glory, but at least his companions could regain their focus. With the enemy distracted, the other climbers could strive for purpose along the walls. If nothing else, they could use the enemy confusion to make their retreat.

His mind only focused on the safety of his allies, Yucao didn't even consider the remaining men of his company, the other torch bearers who had rushed ahead. But soon he found them, huddled beyond the wall of shields, baffled and confused masses.

“Move!” he shouted again, as someone tried to push him back. No matter what the others did, he would be damned if they would fail here. All their lives they had been trained for this one moment, the one chance to lead House Pluritac to glory. Even if there was no glory in arson, he wouldn't be perturbed. He would bring them victory, even if he had to burn every southerner on the twin Isles.

At last he pushed past his company, and towards his purpose. Right before his eyes was the gray mass of paper he had aimed for at the start of his sprint, the walls that had proven unscalable. So fierce, yet so fragile. Wasn't it only paper? A single push would be enough to topple the defenses. Yucao would be the one to give that push! With all the force in his powerful arms, he flung the pot of oil onto the walls, where it burst and splattered the fire starter all across the surface. Not a second later he himself reached the spot, and his torch ignited the walls themselves! The oil burned bright as it rose into the night, to destroy the paper and save them all!

His momentum carried him into the wall and forced the air out of his lungs, but he didn't care. Even if he burned up in his inferno, he would save many more lives thank his own. Any one of his companions was worth as much as him, so his life would not be given in vain. Once the paper fire had erased his body in this world, he would find solace with his ancestors in the next.

However, the flaming inferno he had awaited never came. Only besides him, the oil still sizzled on the walls. His hands touched the cold, hard surface beside him. While the fire to his right fizzled out, his fingers brushed over the porous wall. How could this be? So smooth, so seamless?

“Stone?” he wondered, before another wasp stung the back of his head. For a few more moments, he looked up the wall, into the sunlight. The leviathan looked higher than ever. In the end, there had been no purpose for him.

For the last time in his life, Yucao closed his eyes.