The kingdom of Reuton was no more than a city surrounded by sloping farmland. Known as ‘the bowl,’ any armies would be funneled into the surrounding hills and hemmed in by what was known as ‘the Green Pass.’ Whole legions had been repelled by Reuton’s brave defenders. It was a kingdom devoted to its king, Lokhan Baldur who had achieved ascendency over the corpse of the mage King Solomund, killed by his own treacherous subjects.

Now Reuton was a thorn in the arch queen’s side, a beacon of hope for the rebellion, and that would not be allowed. So Thael had read in his report.

It would be his first mission, and as such his first flight. The journey had taken nearly two days, the unsteadiness of wrynn flight caused Thael to retch only once, the least out of all the other newly initiated. Their cadre commander, Osbern, was the only experienced Wraith besides their flyer who had already trained with their wrynn.

More of the giant birds flew low to the ground, sweeping past the woods under the blackened moon. The wind howled against them as it always did.

Soon the woods gave way to plains, dipping to the sudden crater of the city that had fallen from the heavens. The Faith said it was of the Mythic, who did indeed fall out of the gods’ favor. Thael cared little for a people that had left behind nothing but ruins and ash.

The city that was now the kingdom of Reuton was darker than shadow. Its spires were clustered in its center, the main tower standing above them all. Each year, the city grew, covering the ground like mold on a carcass, further encroaching on the surrounding land. As such, Reuton was a tipping point for Arcadia. Anyone who held the city would control the crossroads, and the path to the capital itself. The kingdom held no more than a legion, though a legion was enough to defend the Green Pass.

A lone tower stood watch over the surrounding hills, the monarchy’s spies no doubt already taking its guards’ place. No fires burned from the top as the wrynn passed overhead. They descended into the courtyard surrounding the city’s center, their many wings buffeting away the cries of the many guards. Every surface was of a smooth stone, darker than obsidian, seamless, as if the city were all of one piece. The moonlight did not cast any shadow yet there were thin pillars that glowed with wan light at each intersecting street.

The wrynn landed, their steeled talons sparking against the ground. A square formation of soldiers huddled, waiting. Thael could practically taste their fear.

Once the Wraiths had clambered down their mounts, the flyers urged the beasts back into the skies. The giant birds did not make a sound, only for their flapping wings that lifted them aloft. Thael caught faint whimpers from the men before the Wrynn swooped screeching back down, talons raking through their formations, sparks flying as their steel tipped claws rent and gouged armor, wailing flesh, shattering black stone.

One wrynn battered through the wooden gate and it fell to its shrieking wrath. Some of the Wraith cadres remained in the courtyard. Thael and the others strode past the broken bodies, past the broken gate.

More guards filed in to form a shield wall. Thael gazed skyward at the vast tower. Descending tiers circled the walls connected by squared railed stairways. Banners of the kingdom’s newfound allegiance hung over each level, dark blue cloth stitched golden with the sigil of a hammer falling over a crown. Soldiers stood above them, weapons at the ready

“Loose!” a man roared, pointing his sword towards them.

Crossbow bolts descended in volleys from above, only to fall to the ground before reaching their targets as several of the mages amongst the Wraiths gestured. Some of the bolts were sent streaking back upward. Men fell, some crushing the soldiers below. More volleys were released. More men fell.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fucking fire!”

Silence. Then there were sparks in the darkness and what looked like a host of candles lit up the night. Wraiths hurled ceramic vessels at the defenders which shattered on impact, covering them in burning oil. Men screamed as they fell from the walls. Osbern led the charge, Thael following close behind.

A slash of steel. A missed lunge from a man with bared teeth, eyes wild in his fear, followed by his gasped death. Blasts of wind sent by the aerocrafters staggered the soldiers, more fires spreading from the few pyrocrafters among the Wraiths.

“No,” one man begged, slumped against a step. “No, please…” His eyes widened as Thael stabbed his throat, reaching out feebly as he twisted the blade free.

They ascended, only their gleaming, blood stained weapons visible in the dim light. The crossbowmen were waiting, positioned at every side. The metalcrafters entered first, hands raised as the loosed bolts halted and spun to point back from whence they came. blood pooled over each shining floor they passed.

A fleshcrafter walked alongside them. The mage guided them to every darkened room, for he knew where they hid. The men and women were in their nightgowns. Some lone women held up swords once used for wall decorations, their arms trembling. They all fell. They found one couple holding each other in death's embrace. The man had stabbed his wife’s throat before his own. Some hid under their beds, and when the fleshcrafter pointed down the Wraiths bared their blades and stabbed into mattresses.

The mage pointed to a corner. A boy sat, arms cradling his shoulders, only his forlorn eyes visible through his hair.

“Thael,” Osbern stated quietly. “Finish the mission.”

The boy rushed to escape and Thael drew his sword and sidestepped to face the boy. The boy scrabbled to halt his momentum but was too late. Thael merely pointed his sword and he ran onto its blade. The boy shuddered and gave a slow faint gasp. His chin nodded down. Thael pulled the blade free and the boy toppled forward. His hazel eyes remained open. Thael stood over his frail body, waiting for the others to leave before following in their silent stead, his footsteps bloodied.

They continued their path skyward. The soldiers fought with grim determination, some crying out, “Protect the king!” Slowly, irresistibly, the men were cut down by craft or wet steel, and they moved ever closer to the highest level.

The defenders were driven back to a squared rooftop, the moonlight falling down and disappearing into the Wraiths’ shadowy mists. From such heights one could hear the winds whispering their inescapable fates.

“Come on you caitiff bastards!” boomed a voice that could only be from King Lokhan himself.

He stepped forward and raised his warhammer, resplendent in shining plate, helmetless, his chiseled face regal in its bearing.

“You’ve slaughtered my line. Women and children in their beds. But Reuton will never forget! We are free men!" King Lokhan roared. "And we will die as free men. Long live the rebellion! For you cannot—”

A dagger choked his next words. Sputtering and lurching, the king fell to land with the heavy clatter of steel. The defenders backed away to the very edge of the roof. The wrynn hovered above, blocking out the pale moonlight.

Osbern stepped forward. "Do you know who we are?"

One of the soldiers blinked. "Yes."

"Say it."

The man closed his eyes. "You are… Wraiths."

"Tell all of those who still live in this kingdom, any who defy the arch queen will be cleansed, as will their entire line. There is no escape from such a fate. But through the arch queen's mercy, you have been chosen to remember these words, and spread their truth. Go, and follow her will."

Osbern turned away, pulling out a whistle below his neck and blowing. Their wrynn landed upon the roof, Thael and the others leaving the soldier to spread the word.