Day With Death

The siege had stretched into its fifth day. The fortress stood, scarred and battered, but still unbroken. Smoke curled from the ramparts where fires had been extinguished, and the air stank of steel, sweat, and blood. Every soldier bore the exhaustion of relentless battle, yet they pressed on, because they had no choice. To falter meant death.

That morning, Mira found Noel in the armory, hunched over his sword as he cleaned the blade. She carried something long and wrapped in cloth. Her hands trembled, though her smile was bright.

"Noel," she said softly. "I finally finished it."

He looked up. Mira set the bundle on the bench and unwrapped it to reveal a polished staff of dark wood, runes etched carefully into the grain. Silver bands reinforced the grip, and the headpiece shimmered faintly where a crystal core was set. It wasn’t ornate, but it was precise, sturdy, and made with devotion.

Noel touched it carefully, as if afraid it might vanish. "Mira... you really did it."

She grinned, relief softening her face. "Told you I would. This one’s better balanced than anything I’ve ever made. It should channel your magic smoothly, like a river finding its course."

He rose, testing the weight. In one hand he still carried his sword, worn from use, and at his belt his wand hung at the ready. Now the staff joined them. Two magical foci and the weapon of steel - a trinity of tools for survival for a mage-knight. Noel let out a slow breath, lowering the staff with reverence.

"Thank you," he said simply. His voice carried more weight than any flourish of gratitude. Akari, watching quietly, flicked her tail and thought how strange it was that even now, hope could be crafted by hand.

…

Later that day, Akari found herself posted at the eastern wall beside Lysandra and Morrin. The snow-slick stones trembled under the rhythm of battle as monsters hurled themselves against the defenses. Archers shouted from above, spears braced against the next wave.

Morrin adjusted his grip on his weapon, eyes gleaming with a mixture of nerves and admiration. "Can you believe it? Fighting alongside a captain. And you, Akari - fighting with Noel."

Akari tilted her head, ears twitching. "Honor doesn’t mean much to me."

He laughed, young and unshaken. "That’s true."

Lysandra scoffed, though her lips quirked faintly. "Well, why don’t all of us go drinking after this? Got some stash in my chambers."

“Lysandra!” Noel exclaimed.

“I bought it before the ban, I’m innocent.” The female mage laughed. “Despite my personality, I do follow the rules!”

The horn sounded. Another wave surged forward.

The monsters struck harder this time, clawing over the barricades. Soldiers roared, meeting them with steel and flame. Akari darted forward, fire sparking around her tail as she lunged at a beast that had breached the wall, scorching its hide. Noel’s sword cut another down beside her.

Then, in the chaos, one slipped through - a hulking creature with jagged horns and a crushing bulk of muscle. It barreled toward Lysandra. She faltered, thrown off balance by the icy ground.

"Lysandra!" Noel and Akari cried.

But Morrin moved first.

He leapt between her and the monster, shield raised. The impact drove him back, steel screeching under the force. The creature’s strike pierced through - an awful sound, metal breaking, flesh yielding. Morrin gasped, eyes wide, blood blooming against the snow.

"No—!" Akari surged forward, but before she could see more, Noel was there. His sword cut deep, felling the beast in a single arc. And then his hand pressed over Akari’s eyes, firm but trembling.

"Don’t look," he whispered.

The fox froze, heart hammering, and the sounds around her blurred into muffled chaos. Morrin’s choked breaths, Lysandra’s cry, and the thud of his body falling - it all carved itself into her memory even without sight.

When Noel lowered his hand, it was over. The monster was gone. Morrin lay still.

Lysandra dropped to her knees beside him, clutching his lifeless form. Her voice cracked, raw with grief. "You fool! You… stupid, stupid boy! Why would you! Why me?!" Her tears streaked her dirt-stained cheeks as she shook him, as if she could drag him back by force alone.

Akari’s throat closed. She had feared death. But this was different. Morrin had a name. A voice. A laugh. And now he was gone. Too soon. Too young.

…

That evening, the fortress grew quiet. The fires burned low, and the groans of the wounded echoed faintly in the barracks. In the courtyard, a row of coffins waited, each holding one of the fallen. Among them lay Morrin.

Soldiers gathered for the eulogy. Names were spoken aloud, each carved into memory, though most would be forgotten or a footnote in history. Father Tharen and High Priestess Serina’s voice carried solemnly in the cold air as they prayed for the dead. Their words asked the gods to guide their souls beyond the snow, to the warmth of eternity.

Lysandra knelt beside Morrin’s coffin, shoulders shaking. Her face was covered by her hat as she bowed her head. "It should have been me," she whispered. Her tears fell freely, unashamed.

Akari stood a few paces back, Noel beside her. She couldn’t move closer. Her chest ached with something unfamiliar. The grief was heavy enough to press her tail against the ground. She whispered under her breath, almost too soft for even herself to hear. "He’s the first… the first person I knew by name to die."

Noel didn’t answer. His silence was its own weight, but his hand rested on her head. He hadn’t let her see the moment Morrin fell. Maybe that was mercy. Maybe that was cruelty. She didn’t know.

The coffin was carried toward the temple. Soldiers lowered their heads. Mira pressed her lips together, eyes wet. Seren clenched his fists at his side, Barkley close by, ears pinned back. Caldris murmured something under his breath. A prayer, or perhaps a promise. None spoke loudly. None had the strength.

Lysandra refused to leave until Seren gently pulled her away. His voice was calm, though his eyes shone with sorrow and rage. She looked shattered, her grief laid bare for all to see.

Akari lingered longer, staring at the dark outline of the temple doors closing over the coffin. Morrin’s laughter echoed in her memory and his words about honor. She swore silently that she would not forget it.

As she and Noel walked back through the fortress, the night colder than before, he finally spoke. His tone was quiet, almost resigned. "This is only the beginning."

Akari’s tail curled tight against her side. She knew he was right. More would die. More names would be lost to the snow. But Morrin’s… his she would carry. She owed him that much.

She looked up at the pale moon above the fortress walls and whispered once more, "Morrin."

A name remembered, if only by a few.