A battle horn reached into the deepest part of Irene's consciousness and dragged her out of sleep more effectively than a cool bucket of water being dumped on top of her.
For the first time in what felt like eons, she had a sense of clarity. It was still paired with so much pain and sadness, but it was motivating enough for her to be able to stand up and face whatever elicited the battle horn in the first place.
However, her feet, covered only in socks, touched the dirt floor, and her eyes darted around to look for her sword. They landed upon a silver arming sword, and a dagger was further pushed into her heart.
It wasn't her sword but Leif's.
She hoped it would work just the same.
The girl sprinted from the tent without further warning, and she went in the direction of the one place she knew the action to always be. Her feet carried her north. The backdrop of the monsters on the field was the Duke's Tower.
