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“It is possible,” Nus said.
“Our army will be much smaller than we planned,” A’nshon said.
“So will theirs,” M’rar Thres said.
“Qi?” I said.
He was unusually quiet. Normally, he would have been gung-ho with attacking the enemy head-on.
“A Titan warrior is worth ten Changeling scum,” he said. “We will fight, and fight to win. For the future, and all other Titans.”
He nodded amiably to M’rar Thres.
“I’m not sure they’re up for the battle,” A’nshon said, nodding to the Titan soldiers sitting around the north exit.
They were caked in dirt and grime, their eyes downcast and heavy with a sense of hopelessness.
Our plan was doable, but only if the warriors were ready to attack with the vigor and aggression they were famous for. To not fear death and give it everything they had because victory was more important than life.
But these soldiers were not those men. They were well trained, battle-hardened, and ready for combat, but this loss had knocked them off their stride. They needed a pick me up.
As their emperor, that duty passed to me.
I strode through them and they watched me as I passed. There was a handy rock in the center for me to step on.
I looked at each Titan in turn. Their eyes looked at me with a faint glimmer of hope. I needed to spark it into a raging wildfire.
“I understand you’re tired,” I said. “I’m tired too. Of being burnt alive, of being hunted, of being forced out of the only safe place I’ve found in the past few days. So, let me ask you. Have you had enough?”
I turned to meet them each in the eye. For some, the answer was yes. For others, they sat firmly on the fence.
“It’s an honest question,” I said. “Have you had enough? Are you ready to surrender? If you are, then go ahead and pack up your things and return to your loved ones. Assuming the Changelings haven’t killed them already. Give up your lives and the lives of your loved ones. Give up the honor and let the Changelings have it. Let me tell you this. If you quit now, if you give up before the greatest fight of your lives, they will sing songs and ballads, but not about you. They’ll sing about how the Changelings defeated the mighty Titans in just a few short battles.
“But those stories won’t be the ones that get told. That’s because I know Titans. This loss we suffered today will be nothing but a footnote in the history books. It will be remembered as the moment when we stood up and spoke in a single voice, screamed into the night, and performed the greatest Dance of Death in the history of our great empire. This is the day when we claim back what is rightfully ours. This is the day when we push back and force them to realize they picked on the wrong species.”
The Titan fighters roared. They sat a little taller and their chests broadened a little further, and their lips turned into smiles that sparked in their eyes.
The warriors were young. Most of them probably hadn’t taken their first life yet. But they were Titans. They were of the same blood as me and my ancestors. That made us family.
“Every hero in every song and story you’ve ever heard felt the way you do now,” I said. “Every Titan throughout history has one great fight in them. Make this yours.”
They began to stand but stopped on their knees. Then I heard a low thrumming sound, a deep bass, that they hummed at the back of their throats.
They were singing. A song of victory and vengeance.
The most famous Titan song of all.
It was a duet and required a lead.
Me.
That’s when I sang. My voice sailed high and twirled in the air high above us, I sang of victory and salvation.
The Titans formed a fist with their hands and thumped their chests, adding to the racing tempo. I thumped mine in return, so hard I threatened to break my ribs.
It was the song we sang when we headed into battle, when we knew death was the most likely outcome.
We sang it when there was nothing but despair to feed on, so we ate until it was all gone, and we were left with a tiny kernel of hope.
