My hand healed quickly. I absorbed myself in council business.
I rarely saw Manara. I heard that she had buried Eversio herself, for fear that Lucifer would put his body on display as some kind of message.
Our forces were a day’s ride from the Eunoe.
It would be an understatement to say that we were on edge. The nightly parties had come to a stop altogether, and I was too worried to be grateful. After the loss of two council members due to treason, it was safe to say there wasn’t too much camaraderie in the camp.
Morale was low. Trust was even lower. The Eunoe was going to be the deciding battle of the war. If we didn’t have absolute victory, I doubted our forces would have the will to continue. The war had already been longer and bloodier than it had to be, and it had to end. Fast.
I was having armor made for me, for what was likely to be the final battle. The combat suit had served me well for as long as I had worn it through battle, allowing me almost unnatural agility compared to other soldiers and, on certain occasions, giving me a psychological edge.
It seemed like all of Purgatory had heard of the Prophesied, of the human girl that rode into battle with no armor, who had held the treacherous bank of the Lethe single-handedly. In their minds, I had been transformed into a god. Even with my ridiculous hair (which was finally growing out, by the way) there were various occasions in which soldiers had laid eyes on me with my twin swords brandished, and then swiftly fled.
The suit did, obviously, make me far more vulnerable at the same time. I knew instinctively that the Eunoe was going to be a long battle, considering that Purgatory would be hitting back with all they had to keep the riverbank, and I wanted more than a bodysuit to protect me during its duration.
After an endless stream of simulations and planning, we had decided upon a three pronged attack on Purgatory’s last stronghold, with reserves following in between the prongs.