An arrow whizzed past Izar's head before she could cast, flying so close to her face that she could feel the tips of the fletching whisper over her skin. As expected, it hit its target true: the oncoming soldier collapsed to the ground, causing the ones behind him to scramble away or trip over his corpse.
She wouldn't turn around to give her sniper's position away; said sniper would have sufficiently disguised herself, yes, but it was poor form. Instead, she shot a flare of approval up into the sky, and two other Inquisition dogs fell in front of her in response.
Izar smiled, and lowered her casting hand, and swung her halberd with a shout.
Izar could hardly remember her life without Cosima in it. A certain circle of families revolved around the Edenveils, jockeying for position and favour as the dynamics of Oremis changed in response to Basca's ever-shifting political landscape, but the Sansevnas had never had cause to question their status. Ever since the advent of the Fire Brides, their status was secure.
Intertwined for so long, the close relationship between the families led to the notion that it was rarer to see an Edenveil without a Sansevna than it was to see snow that struck during an Oremisian winter. As such, Izar and Cosima knew one another as children, long before war and siege became known to them. Where Izar had always been meant for the knighthood, even with her naysayers, Cosima did not have the same constitution, but she was fierce with the bow and arrow: and so the ranger corps it was.
Cosima had moulded herself to Izar's side young, present when a small matchstick flame erupted in Izar's hand, much to the cheers of her father, a smile on his handsome face, her mother clapping delightedly. Cosima's father liked to say that her own magics manifested by her proximity to Izar that day. Years later, Izar still did not know if that was true or not, but then, she had never known Orazio Sansevna to lead her astray.
It did not matter, in the end: their magics grew stronger, Izar's and Cosima's. And, destined to always stand by an Edenveil, Cosima's life was tethered to Izar's, much as her older brother's was to Izar's brother Zilar. Another Edenveil, another Sansevna.
"Corvus says that should be the last of them."
Izar looked up from the map on her table as Cosima strode into her tent, already divested of her light armour, all weapons stored away save for the dagger slung on a belt around her waist. Long hair down and swaying behind her, woe to anyone who dared cross Ranger Sansevna now that she had decided she was off-duty for the day. Izar's eyes darted across Cosima's face, searching for any sign of strain. Then she assessed her gait, waiting to see if she favoured one side or the other, inwardly sighing with relief when she saw none.
Elyas suffered poisoning from Inquisition arrows that Cosima's touch could not undo. Now he was letting it run its course in his tent with Nevisi standing guard, while Izar herself sat in the healers' tent earlier to keep Orizaphir company as their multiple dislocated joints were being set. The rest of the party, thankfully, only had minor scrapes and bruises. Cosima herself always came out relatively unscathed compared to the rest of them, extremely nimble and capable of exceptional dodges.
Izar did not like that today's skirmish necessitated any of that at all, but that was a matter for her and her father to discuss.
Corvus was the newest addition to Izar's personal guard. Trained by Cosima herself, he had turned extraordinary and indispensable in the forests under her guidance. When she was not around, it was Corvus, now, who acted as Izar's eyes during Scouting.
"Good," Izar said as Cosima approached. "We'll do a final sweep in shifts tonight and tomorrow, then head back to Oremis immediately." She frowned and moved some of the pieces on her map accordingly. The movement scattered the Inquisition forces on the outskirts of Laziègo. Her mouth thinned as she compared today's results to the plans she received from her father's harried messenger just the other day. Barring any incidents, the squadron should be home in a handful of days. "I'm sure everyone will be glad to be home for the Parade."
Laziègo, a small town on a major trade route that fed into Oremis from the west, was targeted specifically for its sympathetic merchants and travellers that continued on said trade route into the city for the Sun Parade; and Castíl had not sent ordinary Inquisitors. Hoping to catch any witch that was fleeing from nearby Oljana, which had recently succumbed to Inquisition control, they also sent a High Inquisitor Izar knew well: the first one she encountered on a battlefield without her father beside her.
The Witchhound had escaped again, preferring to flee rather than stand his ground with his men. The coward's way out, Izar thought with much contempt. She could not imagine leaving anyone under her command to their deaths or worse fates. The forces they took care of along the Oljan Road had been middling Inquisitors at best, but Inquisitors still — beasts that hunted her kind for sport under the Bascan Church's misguided sense of superiority.
After Cosima's arrows took down the three who tried to surround her, Izar had refrained from using magics to do anything else besides regulate her body temperature so that she could mitigate exhaustion. But then Elyas went down with a shout not long after, and then Izar decided it was time to stop drawing the fight out long enough in hopes that the Witchhound might come back and she could take him off the board. She cast her Echo with an arc of her hand. It was only later she found out about the extent of Orizaphir's injuries.
Cosima scoffed. "Everyone will be glad to get drunk and use the parade as an excuse." The corner of Izar's mouth quirked up, for she knew it to be true. Cosima sat down across from her, crossing her arms. "Were you seen by the healers?"
"Yes." Izar made notes for the report she was going to deliver to her father. Duty first, drinking second: but she was looking forward to the parade, too. There would be no Edenveil marriage at the end of it, since neither she nor Zilar were marrying yet and only Zilar was engaged. Still, she knew the festivities would be just as grand as though there was one. The Sun Parade was technically an Oremisian tradition, not only an Edenvellian one, but their long ties to the city made the fête personal, and the family always celebrated accordingly. There would be dinner and dancing for a week at Dawn's Gate, no peace or quiet for seven days, the most joyous the estate was every year since her mother had died. "I'm fine, Cosima."
Cosima was quiet for a beat, no doubt assessing Izar as Izar had done to her. "You never have learned how to lie to me," she said eventually. Izar could imagine the way one of her ears must have twitched in agitation, an endearing tic from childhood she had yet to lose despite her best efforts. "Orizaphir told me you left before anyone could so much as look at you."
Likeliest destination Sarcaza further up, Izar wrote in shorthand. Might circle around? Potential northern threat. Men at each gate.
Then she looked up and put her quill down to give Cosima her full attention. She blinked. "Orizaphir was also woozy and babbling from being so highly medicated that they wouldn't feel a thing while Viran worked on them." Cosima made a dismissive sound. "I'm fine," she repeated, letting her mouth curve into a soft smile, "only bruised. Nothing worse, in no small part thanks to you."
The half-elf frowned, disdain clear on her delicate face. "You were knocked around in full plate with a battering ram, Izar, and don't think I didn't see you getting hit by that swine's pommel." An Inquisitor had slipped past Cosima's eyes and struck Izar from behind as Izar charged against two others toward the fire Nevisi shot into the air for help. "Thank me by allowing Viran to look at your injuries."
How many times had they had such discussions?
"I'll go once everyone else has been attended to," Izar reassured her. "You know I don't like it when resources are diverted to me when there are still others they could be used for." Father always told her not to be wasteful. "I still have to finish this report, too."
Cosima draped one leg over the other, leaning back into her seat and giving her a withering look. "I was not born yesterday, stellina."
Izar glared at her, but Cosima knew she was safe so long as she did not resort to terms of endearment around the other knights, certainly not in any way that could be misconstrued as improper conduct to be reported back to their fathers or the leader of the ranger corps. Their friends were another matter entirely, though, and Cosima knew it. The last time she'd called Izar a pet name in front of Elyas — purposefully, because Izar admittedly had been obtuse about heading out to Magra while her ribs hadn't been fully healed and neither Viran nor the head healer at home cleared her for active duty yet — he'd cackled and called her by it in private for weeks.
"As soon as I leave," Cosima went on, "you will finish that report and start on another and another and another. Andmeros said you didn't stop by for food, either."
Izar tsked, but there was no real heat behind it. "You are all spies and gossips."
Cosima nonchalantly raised and lowered a shoulder. Every move she made was graceful. "It is what you picked us for, isn't it?" Her eyes darkened. "And you are no machine, though I know your father may think you are. You broke fast with us this morning, and nothing since."
Had Izar been having this conversation with almost anyone else, she would have already asked them to leave.
"Perhaps I'm waiting to feast once we finally get home," Izar responded.
Cosima rolled her eyes viciously. Izar was intimately familiar with the expression. "That isn't how eating works, Iza. Will you eat if I tell Andmeros to brng it here for you? Do you not want company at the moment, is that it?" Mothers, but there was a reason why Cosima was Izar's right hand. "Only, he didn't want to overstep in front of the others to ask you himself, and told me to come ask you when I stopped by."
"I will." Cosima's face softened. Izar was never more exhausted than she was after performing as her father's general, even when her command this time was limited to her normal scouting party and the small group of soldiers her father had allotted for the clean-up. Here she was, not meant to rule anything, and yet still made to bark orders and be followed anyway, all of twenty-three with all these lives in her hands. She ran a hand down her face, then capped her inkpot, standing and rolling her shoulders. Cosima uncrossed her arms and stood, too, tall and beautiful and willowy. "Let me lay eyes on Elyas and Orizaphir first, and then I'll eat."
"I'll allow it," Cosima said haughtily as Izar skirted around the table to stand before her.
Izar raised a brow. "Oh, will you?" Cosima nodded, staring back at her with a defiant jut of her chin. Izar chuckled, true and gentle, shaking her head. "Well, if Ranger Sansevna allows it..."
One of Cosima's hands reached out for her, and Izar met her halfway instinctively, staring, transfixed, at her own tan skin, Cosima's pale complexion. When their palms met, it was as if the world sighed, everything set to rights again. Cosima squeezed her hand, and Izar stepped closer, tilting her head up as Cosima bent slightly to touch their foreheads together.
"You must get better at taking care of yourself, Iza," Cosima murmured insistently, nuzzling at her.
Izar shifted so she could press a light kiss to the corner of Cosima's mouth, and reveled in the heat Cosima's body gave off. She stepped away, squeezing her hand back before untangling them.
"Let's go," she said quietly, and Cosima sighed at her evasion before nodding, straightening and squaring her shoulders as Izar put on her gloves and picked up her own dagger to wear on her waist. They were among their own, but she was nothing if not vigilant.
Cosima fell into step beside her, and they walked out of the tent together.