For A Moment Like This

In the deepest part of the night, no lights are burning in Duke Ravenmoor’s castle except for one, high in the window of a tower with views of the besieged battlements of the city wall. Within,  a slender blonde woman in baggy black trousers and a black wrap top with flame-colored edging does battle with a punching bag by candlelight. Her fists move too quickly for an untrained eye to trace their movements. On the other side of the spacious but sparsely furnished room, another woman with unruly red hair sleeps on a futon. Her gentle snores present a stark contrast to the blonde’s flurries of punches.

The tower window is open, allowing chilly night air to swirl through the room. The redhead, Acelynne Latimer, shivers as she sleeps and pulls a woolen blanket more tightly around herself. The blonde, Moira Tsirkova, pauses for a moment to enjoy the winter breeze and wipe sweat from her brow before returning to her drills. Just because she is not on duty does not mean that she should slacken in her training. The Flame Guard must always be prepared, and for that reason only one of the three sisters-in-arms is permitted to sleep at a time. Acelynne has that privilege at present, while Moira trains and their third comrade, Zaria Plamenov, completes her shift with the Ravenmoor Flame. All three of them spend their days in this cycle: guarding the Flame, resting, and sharpening their skills.

An owl’s shriek shatters Moira’s concentration. A moment later, a flurry of white feathers and piercing golden eyes darts through the tower window.

“Yuna!” Moira yelps. She’s never liked the owl Zaria keeps as a familiar. What is she doing here? “You’ve interrupted my–”

The owl screams again, cutting off Moira’s protests. Acelynne doesn’t stir; her sleep is the deep dreaming of a magic-user after a long day of casting.

Yuna darts towards Moira. Her gold eyes meet Moira’s red-brown ones and for a moment she feels herself in the Flame-Safe, sensing the wards on the door break. Panic rises in her chest and her palms begin to sweat. Yuna flies back towards the window, still crying an alarm.

“A security breach in the Flame-Safe?!” Moira demands, whirling to follow the owl. Her punching bag swings towards her back and she catches it with one hand. “You’re sure?”

The owl screeches loud enough to wake the dead. Acelynne groans and rolls over on the futon, but a moment later she resumes snoring, face buried in a pillow.

“Acelynne! Don’t ignore Yuna!” Moira bellows, and in an instant Acelynne is sitting up, dark eyes wide. Her fiery hair is a wild tangle around her head. “Zaria’s in trouble. We have to go. Now.”

“In trouble? You mean there’s someone in the Flame-Safe with her?” Acelynne asks, unable to believe what she’s hearing. “It was all quiet when I was down there. And outside…” Her eyes drift to their tower window. Beyond their tower, the night is black but for artillery bursts outside the walls of Ravenmoor and the torches carried by night patrols. No alarms are sounding, and the sounds of ongoing fighting are muffled by falling snow.

Yuna hoots and flies around the room again, agitated. Images of a male silhouette and a fire-wreathed glaive flash through Acelynne’s and Moira’s minds.

“She’s holding him off for now. But we have to hurry. The Flame can’t go out, or else Ravenmoor is doomed. We can’t fail our city like that,” Moira urges as she straps her morningstar onto her back and fills her pockets with throwing knives. Acelynne leaps to her feet and grabs a staff and a bag of crystals from the end table beside the futon.

“Yuna, back the way you came,” Acelynne orders, driven by fear and duty. The owl flits out the window without a second thought. “Moira, with me. I’ll take us down the easy way.”

“Is it wise to use so much magic energy on that?” Moira’s brow furrows with concern. Acelynne hasn’t slept enough to be fully recovered from her own Flame Guard shift yet.

“Getting down there as quickly as possible is of the essence, yes?” Acelynne rakes an impatient hand through her long tangle of hair. “And based on what Yuna showed us, Zaria’s fighting the Toshobarian spy who extinguished other cities’ flames.”

“Those are just rumors. You can’t possibly believe them,” Moira protests.

Acelynne shakes her head. “If the rumors are true, you’ll be more useful than I will be. They say he’s a mage-douser. And you’re the best of the three of us at non-magical combat. I’m doing this.” She presses her hands together in front of her, murmuring an enchantment. Moira touches Acelynne’s arm and the space around them begins to swirl with dancing lights.

The next moment, they’re in darkness facing a doorway from which firelight and sounds of combat spill–The Flame-Safe. Fiery flowers cover the floor. A tall masculine figure has his hands pressed to the wards around the Ravenmoor Flame’s suspended cage. On the other side of the safe, a diminutive woman–Zaria–feeds the Flame a stream of fire from her palms.

Moira and Acelynne exchange glances. They’ve trained their whole lives to defend the kingdom of Aspela against invaders like the Toshobarians, in preparation for just such a moment as this.

Without making a sound, Acelynne flicks her fingers towards the black-clad man assaulting the Ravenmoor Flame. Moira pulls a fistful of knives from one of her pockets and flings them, singly but rapid-fire, at the invader’s back. He yelps and stumbles forward, striking his head on the Flame’s cage. Zaria snatches her glaive from the floor and leaps to impale him with it, but he twists out of her way. His eyes dart around the room, unfocused yet wary–a symptom of Acelynne’s distraction spell.

Moira charges toward him, pulling her morningstar from her back. He sneers at her and blocks her first blow with a knife. The knife blade shatters from the impact of Moira’s weapon.

“What the hell?!” the man exclaims. “How’s a skinny little girl like you swinging a weapon like that?”

Moira answers with another crushing blow from the morningstar, which her adversary barely manages to dodge.

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE YOUR OPPONENT, a spooky version of Acelynne’s voice echoes through the Flame-Safe, more felt than heard. A gust of wind whooshes past Moira’s head and then an owl’s talons rake their enemy’s head, tearing away his mask.

He’s perhaps five years the senior of the Flame Guards who’ve come to thwart his mission–younger than any of them expected him to be. His features are sharp yet hollow in the light of the Ravenmoor Flame; the Toshobarian forces must not be getting enough to eat. He was sent out of desperation by an army weary of laying siege, Moira would guess. But it’s not in her to feel sorry for him; her duty is to Ravenmoor and the Flame suspended behind her.

With a few whispers and gestures, Acelynne animates the shadows around the Toshobarian invader. He chants counterspells furiously, but for each shadow he disables, two more spring up in its place at Acelynne’s command.

Alive or dead? Moira projects her thoughts to Yuna, hoping the owl will carry them to Zaria. She moves with quiet grace into the enemy’s blind spot, readying her morningstar for a pivotal blow. The owl sweeps over Moira’s head, and a single word echoes through her mind. She smiles grimly and nods. Not the answer she was hoping for, but she understands the utility in her orders.

In a single sweeping motion, she brings the morningstar into the wall over their adversary’s head with one hand, an effective distraction from her other fist, which connects with his temple a moment later. He slumps to the ground, counterspells forgotten and eyes vacant. Zaria and Acelynne touch hands and then point at him.

“Tsevrah-glae,” they say together, and shadows swirl around the Toshobarian, leaving ropes in their wake. After mere moments, he’s bound and helpless on the floor of the Flame-Safe.

“Thank you for coming when Yuna called,” Zaria tells Moira and Acelynne, bowing to each of them in turn. Her fire-flowers disappear from the room, leaving just the light of the Ravenmoor Flame. “He was too much for me alone.”

“You’d do the same for us,” Moira shrugs.

“Think nothing of it. You fought him hard before we arrived,” Acelynne adds. “Are you hurt?”

“No, thank the Heavens. But he fought well. He is Lightbane, the fearsome Toshobarian spy we’ve heard rumors of. Duke Ravenmoor will want to interrogate him,” Zaria replies. “Will you take our prisoner to the Duke, and let Yuna go with you? I will use her eyes and ears to be with you.”

“You’re a better diplomat and interrogator than I am,” Acelynne protests. “I’ll stay to guard the Flame.”

“No, I insist. With my plan we can all be there, at least in some sense. And you didn’t get full rest after your guard shift. Take him and go.” She waves her glaive at the helpless captive on the floor.

“Fine by me. I’m just glad we all got to fight him, if he had to break in,” Moira says. She slings her morningstar onto her back and hoists the limp Lightbane over her shoulder. He’s larger than she is, but she lifts him with little trouble.

“Let me help carry him, Moira,” Acelynne urges. She gets her shoulder under Lightbane’s legs without waiting for a response. She’s at least two handbreadths taller than Moira, and so the spy tilts at a comical angle.

“This is ridiculous, Acelynne. I’ve got him. Lead the way, or else teleport us to the Duke, please.”

“Fine, have it your way. Yuna, come with me.” Acelynne extends an arm to the snowy owl, and after glancing at Zaria for approval, Yuna perches on the proffered arm, the spy’s mask still dangling from her talons.

“May the Flame bless you,” Zaria calls as they step into the labyrinth beyond the safe for Acelynne’s incantation. Moira turns to wave to her with her free hand and sees that Zaria is already working to repair the Flame-Safe door and its wards. Moira smiles, grateful for her sisters-at-arms, but the smile only lasts a moment before she turns her attention to Acelynne. While they’ve won this battle, there is still more to do. The city of Ravenmoor is still at risk. As the space around Moira, Acelynne, and their captive spins with Acelynne’s chanting, Moira hopes that their prisoner will have the information they need for Aspela to win the war with Toshobar once and for all.