[i]A few days on.[/i]

Light dazzled over the surface of Xerxes' harbour. The sun still shone a little too brightly for Tauga's taste, though she was recovering fast. The black goggles on her flight mask would resolve that much, once she could wear it without choking on her own breath again. As it was, she was walking around with her beak slightly open all the time to get enough air. It made her look like an angry drunk. She supposed she had been.

Mako and Ruthar were overseeing the last preparations before the ship cast off. Most of the crates and all of the refugees had been loaded; What remained were a few non-essentials, mostly trading materials that could hopefully be used to buy passage in distant lands. It was all being taken below deck, but for the odd, yellowish, mushroom-like rig that was being grown at the side of the ship. That needed to stay in sunlight. It was worth more than half of the rest of the supplies put together, if it worked. The only ones that remained were a few Rotflies standing guard on the dock before they left their home and army behind.

Sen shouted something, which Ruthar confirmed. Tauga realised that the masked ex-militiamen were not the only ones left, and, shortly afterwards, that she was being approached. She felt them walk towards her with her tendrils, not raising her head until they were close. [colour=antiquewhite]"Oyur,"[/colour] she mumbled. [colour=antiquewhite]"Erjang. You've decided?"[/colour]

It was Erjang, the tattooed elder, who answered. "North," she said firmly. "They say it's populated, and the winds are good. Most of the ships are sailing that way." Tauga nodded. [colour=antiquewhite]"Remember what I said about the... Crystal place."[/colour] Words to fill the gap. Of course they would remember.

"We're here to say goodbye," she continued. "And thank you, Blowfly."

Tauga's eyes widened, palms rising a little. [colour=antiquewhite]"Oh."[/colour] It hadn't been something she'd expected to hear.

Erjang raised her eyebrows, then laughed softly. "I guess that's all there is to it." She turned and gazed back on the fleet of stolen and repurposed vessels, their inhabitants protected from the new Xerxes at such cost. "We do owe you, you know. More than you think. We might have watched the City die, but the People, the [i]real[/i] City, well." The elder stretched her time-worn muscles and grinned, despite everything. Tauga shrugged limply.

Oyur shuffled, as if making a decision, then stepped up and wrapped her arms around Tauga, bending her knees to reach head head. "Thanks, Tauga. We won't... We'll never forget. What you stood for." Tauga tried to shrug, and couldn't. She lifted her beak a little, closed it in a hainish kind of smile. She guessed that was appropriate. Oyur let her go, leaned back, took a good look at her.

"And... I'm sorry. For..."

[color=antiquewhite]"Yeah, I know,"[/color] said Tauga lamely. [colour=antiquewhite]"Me."[/colour]

Oyur choked a little, pressed her lips together behind her bandanna, stood to attention. Saluted her general one last time. Tauga nodded firmly. Without further trivialities, she turned and escorted Erjang back to the ship.

Tauga sighed. By the time Sen stepped up to her for orders, she'd fitted the Blowfly mask back on her face. Turning, she could see the reignited fires of the City, the dark carnival unending, just as the Énas Amartia had promised. Only now with no one sane left to save.

Stretch. [colour=antiquewhite]"Ready for another round in Hell, Sen?"[/colour] she said without humour.

"Sir," replied the captain.

Tauga stepped into the darkness of the streets, leaving the light of fresh dawn behind her. [color=antiquewhite][i]No one left to save.[/i][/color]

That wasn't true. She was Xerxes, and Xerxes was her. And though the Blowfly was long past saving, well.

She'd fight anyway.