1 Unexpected

The snow swirls silently, billowing outside the stone framed window. Huddled in a thick wool and fur cloak and leaning his weight on the sill, Leonidas Windsor shivers. The winter has been relentless, dumping tons of snow on the thick forest every day for the last four weeks. The only relief the soldiers get comes when the wind relents, letting the snow fall straight.

The post, situated seven miles inland from the northern sea and 7500 feet up into the Alaric mountains, is miserable. It is where the newest recruits of the Fifth Army of Nayanamh are sent to introduce them to the life of a soldier. This post, named the Dismal Fort after its harsh conditions, was chosen not for its atmosphere but because of one very important factor: The attacks that come are very few and far between. When locked in a war with ferocious, fire breathing, armored dragons, one must break the recruits in easily, or risk losing the entirety of their newcomers in one blow.

The Dismal Fort only suffers one or two small attacks each month. They are easy to fend off, and the more experienced men who run the fort get the opportunity to teach the recruits while defending the fort. Although on the contested border, the Dismal Fort is not a key strategic position, so the dragons do not waste much energy attempting to take it. A small attack every now and again will keep the humans wasting their resources.

Quietly, Leonidas taps his fingers on the cold stone, feeling the ice attempt to creep through his thick leather gauntlets. Despite being in this outpost for nearly three months, the boy has yet to lay eyes on a dragon, much less kill one. It's always been his dream to follow in his brother's footsteps and become a ferocious defender of his people. He's never been able to, though. He has extraordinarily bad luck. Or, as some of the officers have pointed out, extraordinary good luck.

"Leo!" The shout is a surprise, jolting the recruit from his gloomy thoughts. Twisting from his endless watch, Leonidas finds himself staring at his identical twin, Ruhban. Despite his horrible mood, Leo cannot help but smile. Ruhban has always been the more cheerful and outgoing of the two, yet somehow also the logical twin. Despite being younger, Ruhban took on the mantle of the responsible twin as well. Leo has always been too preoccupied with chasing dreams to bother with responsibility. "Leo, I'm glad I found you! Cecil is here!"

Immediately, Leo's spirits are lifted and his smile splits wider. Cecil, the oldest of the Windsor family, has made quite the name for himself in the military of Nayanamh. It is said that he killed a prince of the dragons in his first week. He has killed countless dragons in the name of his country, Nayanamh. Cecil is the one who inspired both Ruhban and Leo to join the military.

"Cecil?" Leo asks, turning more fully to his twin. He has to rise to see Ruhban very well over the top of the massive crossbow sitting in the middle of the room. The crossbow is designed to kill dragons and is one of the only weapons with enough force to punch through their protective scaly armor. Of course, a precision strike with a sword, say between the scales, could kill a dragon as well. However, the massive beasts are often swirling high in the sky above, so the only way to reach them is with a bow or projectile. "Cecil is here? Why is he here? I thought he would be at Stormbreak Palace. You know, with the High King?" Leo asks, his smile fading.

"I thought so too, but he just arrived with a small escort. He wants to see both of us, according to his courier boy," Ruhban replies excitedly. "Now come on! We haven't seen him in three years!"

Leo furrows his brow, dragging the two dark brown lines of hair close together. "Exactly. Why is he here now? He never bothered to visit the house…" Leo murmurs. Without a doubt, the recruit is ecstatic to see his brother, the one he has missed for three long years. The one who has been his idol since Leo was old enough to walk. He's confused, however, as to why their brother would pick now to show up. Perhaps it is their recent enlistment into the military.

Realizing his twin has made no move to follow, Ruhban crosses the small watch-tower room and grabs his brother by the thick brown cloak. "Who cares? He's here now. Let's go!" Securing his hold, the younger twin hauls his brother across the room. After another moment of confused resistance, Leo gives in and follows him. Only when they start down the rickety wooden staircase does Leo have the sudden realization that his post will be left unattended.

"Ruhban, wait," he stops, pulling back against his brother's grip. "I have to find someone to take over the watch."

"It'll be fine. We haven't had an attack since you got here. What makes you think the dragons will attack now? Besides, there are three other towers currently staring off into the empty snow-infested lands. You won't be missed," Ruhban replies, not pausing in his excited gate.

"But… I could get in a lot of trouble, Ruhban," Leo says, hesitating once again.

"Leo! It's Cecil. He'll cover for you. It's fine. Don't you want to see him?" Ruhban asks.

Sighing, the older twin starts after his brother again, muttering, "Since when was I the responsible one?"

"We haven't seen Cecil in three years, Leonidas," Ruhban replies, his tone suddenly serious. Leo can sense a lecture coming. "Cecil is our brother, our blood. Blood is very important, brother. Family is very important. We have an opportunity to see the one who basically raised us. No one will get hurt because one watcher wasn't there. We must--"

Raising a hand and swiping it through the air, Leo cuts his brother off, saying, "Okay, okay. I get it. Lead the way."

With a big smile, Ruhban continues on down the tower stairs, his boots clunking against the old wooden steps and echoing off the towering stone walls of the turret. With one more glance over his shoulder at his abandoned post, Leo follows. At the bottom of the stairs, the younger twin pulls the hood of his own wool coat up and pushes the heavy oak door open. Immediately, the wind whips hungrily at them, flattening the dark fabric against their bodies and clawing at any loose scrap of clothing. Snow, so cold and nearly small chunks of ice, pelts their faces as they scramble quickly across the courtyard to the keep. The keep is nothing more than a large, sturdy stone building, big enough to hold the barracks, a few officer sleeping quarters, and a meal hall. Nothing at the Dismal Fort is made for comfort. Only necessity.

Pushing a side door open, both boys pile into the hallway, hissing against the cold and glad of the offered relief. Neither enjoys the cold weather and both will be glad to one day be moved from the fort. They can only hope it will be soon.

Winding through the relatively warm stone corridors, the twins pull off their thick leather gauntlets and remove the hoods from their heads. The temperature difference between the keep, the grounds, and the watchtowers is significant. As they walk, Leo finds himself basking in the warmth. He has been in the watchtower for nearly four hours now and has another two to go. Any longer, however, and he would risk frostbite. There is no heat supply in the towers, so the shifts are limited to six-hour rotations.

"It's kind of stupid," Leo mutters to his brother, "to not include some source of heat in a watchtower. How am I supposed to operate that crossbow without feeling in my fingers?"

"Do you want to have to go out into the snow and gather the extra wood? It's miserable enough collecting it for the furnaces in the keep," Ruhban responds.

For a moment this silences Leo. Ruhban is right. The extra wood needed to fuel four more furnaces would be a huge demand. However, it is yet to be decided whether gathering the wood out in the wet snow or sitting in the cold for six hours is more horrible. Eventually, Leo mutters, "I think I'd rather gather the wood."

Ruhban scowls, replying, "It's not so cold in the towers that you'd lose limbs. It is out in the woods.

"I'll take my chances," Leo responds. They take a turn to the left, and Ruhban stops next to one of the many plain oak doors. The corridor in which they stand is reserved for resident and visiting officers. Each room has its own furnace, and of course, the soldiers have to do the wood gathering. Most officers here will accompany them, lending their own strength to the cold and miserable work. Others, however, mostly visitors, take advantage of the recruits' work with no thanks.

Ruhban pauses then smiles excitedly at his twin. Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, the younger twin raps quickly on the door. Immediately, a familiar yet strange voice responds in a clipped tone, "Come."

The twins share a glance, conveying worry, confusion, excitement, and enthusiasm in one quick look. Ruhban seems suddenly petrified, so Leo steps forward, turning the small brass handle and hauling the door open. Ruhban, forced to move by the approaching door, seems to snap out of his stupor. He darts around Leo and into the room, nearly dropping his gauntlets in his new-found gusto.

Following a little slower, Leo steps in and drags the huge, heavy door closed behind him. Turning back to the room, Leo sees his eldest brother. Cecil, ten years older than the twins at twenty-six years, is standing with his left side to them, facing the fireplace. His armor, fastidiously kept, is carefully and lovingly laid on a dummy to their right, and shines in the firelight. Even without it, Cecil's presence commands the attention of the room. He is a broad-shouldered man, the only one of his family to possess their father's sandy-blond hair, and shares the light tan skin of his mother with both of his brothers. Their younger sister of two years, now fourteen, is the only one to share their father's light skin. Cecil is very tall and well-muscled, yet not so muscular that his frame impedes his agility. While lean, no one would call Cecil skinny. To complete his look, he possesses a pair of icy blue eyes, like his mother, and a small scruff of a beard not unlike his father.

The way he holds himself, upright and at attention, is what catches the eye of those around him. He walks as though he owns the world, as though nothing and no one could touch him, even if they tried. It is slightly intimidating, but not foreign to the twins. When they were young, their brother would tell them stories of how, someday, he would be the most important person in the world. He'd tell them that once he got this position, they would never be hungry ever again. As five-year-old peasants, starving when the food ran out, the two twins would look up at their brother and nod eagerly. Neither of them ever doubted his ability to make this dream a reality, and both of them aspired to be just like him. No one, not even their father, captured their attention as Cecil could. Cecil was the one they ran to when the local village boys threatened them. Cecil was the one they ran to when they were hurt or scared.

Cecil was more of a father to them than their dad, who was always away, working his heart out to provide meager meals for his family. Often, their father would drag their mother along with him, unable to do enough alone to support three growing boys and one scrawny little girl.

Now, staring at the man before him, Leo is reminded of the times he'd run to him for protection. Cecil is the same man, sporting a kind smile… and yet he is not. Something, Leo can sense, is different. Very different. There is a cold and hard light behind his eyes that was not there the last time Leo saw him.

Turning from the fire, Cecil offers both boys that very same smile and motions them farther into his chambers. Ruhban moves first, flinging his gloves on the table and approaching his brother. Then, seeming to realize that Cecil is also his commanding officer, he stops and comes to attention, saluting him with an audible snap.

Cecil grins at the action and says, "Is that any way to greet your brother, Rue?"

Ruhban, abandoning the salute, throws himself at his eldest brother, clamping his hands around the larger man's neck and nearly sobbing in excitement and joy. Cecil laughs, then returns the embrace warmly. He hisses as his skin comes into contact with the cold metal of Ruhban's armor.

Gently disentangling himself from the younger twin, Cecil remarks, "By the four moons, it's cold up here."

Leo, approaching more slowly across the room and setting his gloves gently down beside his twin's haphazardly discarded ones, replies, "Oh, it's not so bad. Once you dig yourself out of the snow and go numb from the cold, that is."

Cecil, turning from Ruhban's beaming face, murmurs, "Hello, Leonidas."

Finally allowing himself to smile, Leo replies warmly, "Hello, Cecil."

The man's eyes soften. That hard light that Leo found so unnerving melts away in the presence of his younger brothers. "I missed you both," Cecil murmurs, looking between the two.

"We missed you so much!" Ruhban yelps, breaking into a stream of quick words. "I've heard all about your exploits, and the money you've sent back really has helped mother, father, and Cadeau. Did you actually kill a dragon prince? Was it hard? How'd you manage it? Has the king promoted you yet? Do you answer directly to the king? Have--"

Cecil snaps a hand up, cutting off Ruhban with a chuckle. "I've missed your way of speaking, Ruhban, but I came here to check on you. Come, sit. Let me hear from you both. Then I'll tell you about me."

Leo, shedding his cloak and following Cecil over to the three comfortable sitting chairs situated around the fire, opens his mouth to start his own peculiar story.

Immediately, however, plopping down directly beside Cecil, Ruhban interrupts, "We both enlisted five months ago. I've been here since. So, about that prince?"

"I believe that Leo has a story as well, Ruhban. I'll answer your questions later," Cecil says patiently, calming his brother. "Let's listen to him first."

Ruhban looks a little disappointed but turns to his twin expectantly.

Looking at his hands as he warms them by the fire, Leo mutters, "They sent me to Batair for two months, to hone my skills or something." What he does not want to admit is why they sent him there. Batair, directly on the line between Nayanamh and dragons' country, Soladirwin, suffers five to six massive attacks a week. It is generally where they send the… unqualified… soldiers to die. However, in Leo's case, he was instead sent because of his uncanny skill. He perfected the drills they gave him, with sword and bow, and he conquered them with gusto. Despite his energy, however, he always hesitated when it came to that last, killing blow. Even on the dummies, knowing there was no life in them, just the thought of extinguishing the flame of life in anything made him balk. Not once was he able to take a life, even a fake one. So, noticing his skill and hesitation, the officers in his training camp, Camp Kias, decided to send him to Batair. They thought the "kill or be killed" atmosphere of Batair might spark his killing instinct.

Cecil tilts his head, his blue eyes curious and nearly proud. He asks, "They sent you to Batair? That's unusual. You must have some good stories to tell."

Leo drops his gaze from Cecil's, his chest tightening as he mutters, "There were no attacks for the entirety of my stay there. Eventually, they sent me here instead. There haven't been any attacks here, either. I've never even seen a dragon, much less fought one."

Watching out of the corner of his eye, Leo watches as the look of pride dissipates from his older brother's eyes. It takes everything he has not to wince. Apparently, killing is everything to everyone. Even Cecil. The boy is not entirely sure why he expected Cecil to be different.

"That's… odd," Cecil finally says, his eyes disappointed and cold again. Leo turns his head a little farther away, something in his throat dropping down into his stomach and tightening there. Eventually, Cecil's voice breaks the heavy silence, saying, "So, Rue, what about you? Any attacks here?"

"Well, while Leo was in Batair, we had three attacks here. I got one good shot on a little green dragon, but we're not sure if my bolt killed it, or if it was the ground's impact when it went down," Rue reports eagerly. "It was pretty little, so it's not unlikely that its body couldn't handle the impact. I have a part of its skin on the wall by my bunk. I like the way the scales reflect the light."

Silently, listening to his brothers talk, the eldest twin recalls the small strip of shining green-blue hide tacked cruelly to the stone wall. He has never seen anything like it, and during his first few days here he spent every second staring at it. All he could do was imagine the body it was once a part of. A sleek head, attached to a powerful neck, gliding down into dense, muscled shoulders protecting a massive heart. Through the thick scaly skin, Leo imagines seeing the muscles slide across bones, flexing slender limbs powerful enough to take down keep towers. On the ends of those limbs, slim toes would extend, not unlike those on a bird, claws adjoining their tips that are nearly four inches long. From the top of the shoulders, massive wings, unfaltering on the wind, would beat rhythmically, bringing the beast around for another attack. The tail, slender and powerful, would whip behind, keeping the dragon upright. Back to the head, Leo's imagination would travel, as the blue and green dragon would call forth the flickering flame in his belly and empty it onto the awaiting humans. Blue flames would erupt, white teeth sparkling in contrast. Then, it would rip above the soldiers' heads, light refracting off the shifting scales, turning their color from green to blue and back. Even in his imagination, skewed by the lack of information, Leo wants to do nothing more than stare at the beast. He wants to do nothing more than watch as it moves, maybe even join it in the sky. He definitely does not want to kill it. Apparently, he is the only one who has that sentiment in the entire human race.

"Yes, their scales are magnificent," Cecil replies, snapping Leo out of his daydream. "But I prefer to keep their horns as trophies. I still have that one from the prince I killed."

"Do you have it with you?" Ruhban asks excitedly. Leo winces slightly, still staring in the opposite direction of his brothers. "I would love to see it!" It is amazing to Leo how the presence of Cecil turns Ruhban back into a child again, instead of the 16-year-old he is.

"No, I left that one at the palace. I have a few others with me here. One is from a very mighty red dragon. Would you like to see it?" Cecil responds.

Ruhban very nearly squeals, but manages to rein himself in enough to say, "Yes please!"

The image of one of those brilliant bodies lying on the ground, broken and bleeding, a horn missing from their heads, flashes through Leo's mind. The boy flinches, before standing abruptly and saying, "I must get back to my post, I left it unattended to come here. I'll come back to visit once my shift is relieved."

The recruit spins without waiting for a reply, sweeping his cloak off the back of the chair, and snatching his gloves from the table.

"Leoni--" Cecil starts, rising half-way from his chair, his expression severe. Cold slithers down Leo's spine, and suddenly he feels the urge to run. Something about his brother, the way he rose, the look in his eyes… it harbors death. Flinging the door open and slipping out into the hall as he hauls his cloak on, the elder twin flees the room. Then, without bothering to respond or pull his gauntlets on, Leo escapes down the hall, nearly at a run.

Why he is fleeing from his brother, he is not entirely sure. He imagined reuniting with Cecil going a lot of ways. He did not expect to see that horribly disappointed coldness in his brother's eyes or the excitement with which Ruhban speaks of killing. Again, the cold returns, slithering down his spine as he makes it into the courtyard. Hurrying across to the watchtower, slipping on the ice now forming on the dark stone, Leo scrambles for the door handle. Something is very different with Cecil, something horrible. That dark, cold look in Cecil's eyes...

The recruit's skin suddenly tightens, sending him scurrying up the stairs as goosebumps erupt across his skin. Leo flings himself past the crossbow and back onto the rickety, unloved bench by the window. Only when he has settled himself back on the windowsill does he relax a little. The cold stone, unmoving against his hand, steadies him a little. This is where he has spent more hours than anywhere else in this mountain. The familiarity of the place, or the stone and the cold and the snow blowing on his face, calms his nerves. Nothing bad has ever happened here, so nothing bad will happen.

Setting both arms on the stone, wincing slightly as the cold creeps through his thick wool tunic, Leo sets his chin down on them and stares off into the distance with green eyes. Outside the deafened fort, the snow claims the land, settling on thick pine branches before falling to the ground far below when disturbed by a passing rodent. Wherever the humans living in the fort have cleared the thick forest the snow has settled to nearly three feet. Behind the never-ending clouds, heavy with more moisture, the meager light from the sun can be seen, attempting to penetrate the fog.

The snow is calming, a presence as constant as that of the stone underneath him. As it swirls and eddies, allowing Leo to watch it, the boy starts to relax, losing himself in the motion. Softly, a sigh slips from between his lips. Cecil should not come up here. It is cold, dirty, and dark. There is no way a Gold Rank officer would bother themselves with a place like this. Not even Cecil.

Thunk.

The sound reverberates through Leo's body, manifesting in a shiver and making his spine snap to attention. Whipping around, the boy faces toward the rickety, steep staircase hidden behind that massive, dragon-killing crossbow. Someone is coming up the stairs.

Slowly, on an instinct Leo was not aware he had, the boy reaches down to his belt, his hand closing firmly on the hilt of his standard-issue sword. Suddenly, he recalls the very words Cecil said to him so many years ago: "Always be careful while out hunting. Even a rabbit cornered by a wolf will fight back."

Leo scowls suddenly, a low growl-like sound coming through his chest. Since when did he, a trained human soldier, at the very top of the food chain, become a rabbit? Since when was he afraid of anything? He's always admired dragons, but he's never been afraid of one. Granted, he's never actually seen one. He's always admired Cecil, but he's never been afraid of him. Until now, of course.

Now, this irrational terror is striking, making him want to look for any point of escape. Why is that? Why is it that the look in Cecil's eyes scared him so much?

Pressing the backs of his legs into the little wooden bench, Leo stands, staring intently at the small stone archway that leads to the old stairs. The only exit from the tower is those stairs or a very long drop to the forest below them. So, without a route of escape, the eldest twin simply waits, listening as the boots approach.

What happens when he gets up here? I won't have anywhere to go. The thought strikes Leo unexpectedly. If that is Cecil, and he arrives at the top step of the stairs, what exactly is the recruit going to do? He could try to fight, of course, but Cecil is highly trained. Cecil is the man that brought down a dragon prince, something only the high king himself has managed. What hope does Leo have? The twin isn't even sure that his brother is going to kill him, but the look he received makes his skin tighten and his heart rate jack up. There was no mistaking the ill-intent in his elder brother's eyes. Maybe we can talk…

"Leo," a soft voice says, and the twin snaps out of his terror-drive stupor with a jump. Indeed, standing in front of the archway, his armor sparkling in the dim winter light, the lion head proudly yellow on his breastplate, is Cecil.

For a moment, Leo panics, looking around desperately for any way to avoid his brother and escape back down the stairs. There is nothing. Either way he goes around the massive crossbow only serves to bring him directly to Cecil.

"Leo, are you alright?" Cecil asks softly, peering at his brother over the top of the crossbow.

The question brings Leo up short, the panic stuttering and failing in his chest. A question filled with genuine concern is not what the recruit expected, and for the briefest moment, he finds himself questioning if he imagined the look of malice in Cecil's eyes. The memory is already fading, turning slowly into black.

Boom!

The sound is sudden and deafening, vibrating the air around them. Slightly, Cecil's eyes widen, his gaze sliding to a point above Leo's right shoulder. Whipping around, cloak flying, the twin comes face-to-face with a dragon.

Time seems to stop, the snow slowing to a near-crawl, the massive beast flying outside the window barely inching along. This dragon is no ordinary dragon. It is a dragon prince, with jewelry hanging around his neck and horns, golden and sleek claws sharpened by a master smith. He is the dragon prince. The Crown Prince of Soladirwin. The dragon's scales, shining like the purest gemstones in the soft light, fade from black on his back to a very dark royal purple near his belly. The horns and spikes mounted on his head, as well as the massive scale-plates covering his chest and stomach, are sparkling ivory. His body is twisted, massive wings hanging in the air as he banks toward the tower, arrowing out of the clouds for an ambush attack. A slim, handsome muzzle is parted, lips drawn back, revealing bloodstained teeth and a throat burning with fire.

A roar rips from the prince's maw, shaking the tower and shattering the spell around Leo. Frozen with awe, jaw hanging open, staring at the sparkling beast, the recruit watches as the dragon bears down on him. Tilting his lithe body, the prince swings toward the tower, fire flickering between his teeth.

Suddenly, instinct kicks in and the imminent danger clicks for Leo as he realizes the dragon is readying to fire. A short gasp escapes him, forming only the word, "Oh."

A body slams into him, hard, throwing him down. Milliseconds later, fire fills Leo's gaze, whipping through the window and lashing at the stone. Even with Cecil's body between his own and the flame, the heat of the attacks dries and cracks Leo's skin.

Cecil, rolling off the top of his younger brother, growls lowly, grabbing Leo by the armor and hauling him upright.

Crack!

The tower shifts, shaking under the power of the prince's wings. The long, powerful tail of the dragon slams into the tower behind him, cracking the stone with the force of its strike. Staggering on his feet, Leo gasps, "Holy crap!"

Cecil, now holding his brother upright, snaps, "That's the oldest prince that still holds his life. I killed his younger brother."

Leo winces outrightly, his fear of his brother overridden by the terror of the dragon prince, muttering, "I wish you hadn't."

Cecil's eyes snap around to his brother, and he hisses, "What?"

Shaking himself slightly, coming back to reality, Leo shoves Cecil away from him, replying, "Why do you think he's here, Cecil? After no attacks for three months? Suddenly you show up here and the Crown Prince of Soladirwin shows up the same day?"

Cecil hisses softly but does not reply. His little brother is correct, after all.

Turning his gaze to the window, Leo watches as the prince circles back around, his wings beating hard to gain altitude once again. Even as Leo's eyes track him, the prince tucks into a dive, arrowing directly for the watchtower on their right. With a resounding crack, the crossbow in that tower goes off and the prince spirals easily and gracefully out of the way, slamming into the top of the tower seconds later. With strong jaws, the dragon rips into the stone with vigor, pulling stone after stone out of the way. In less than thirty seconds, the prince has broken through. In another five, the guard inside is flung to the unyielding stones below. At the crack of the young man's body on stone, Leo cringes, recoiling from the window.

From the clouds, five more beasts dive down. This is, if the human's military books are to be assumed correct, a small and elite strike squad.

Cecil spins, snapping, "Get back from the window, Leo!" and slipping into the crossbow's piloting seat. Realizing what is about to happen, Leo dodges out of the way. Before he loses sight of the dragon prince, however, the beast's head coils up, snapping around to look directly at Cecil, and the prince launches off the tower.

Cecil bends down over the crossbow, fitting his eye to the sight. A second ticks by, the silence broken only by the rapid boom, boom, boom of the six dragons' wings.

Cecil pulls the trigger.

The crossbow bucks, a massive and concussive sound coming from its limbs as the string cracks forward. Leo yelps, covering his head, and hears a dragon scream in the distance. Peeking out from the window, Leonidas watches as the prince goes down, slamming into the trees on a distant mountainside and being lost from sight.

Immediately, the five other attacking dragons roar, the anger obvious in their voices. Then, one after another, they descend on the courtyard, ripping into stone and cooking soldiers where they stand. The last two crossbows, from the other two watchtowers, fire. One dragon goes down without a sound, a bolt sticking directly out of his chest. A second one dodges, whirling into the air. Four dragons left.

Those four do not appear to be deterred in the least. Instead, they resume their attack with vigor, nearly ignoring their fallen comrade.

"Stay here!" Cecil snaps, disentangling himself from the crossbow. "And don't get killed!"

With that the Golden Class General wheels on his heel, leaving his shell-shocked younger brother at the window, and disappears into the staircase.