Elassa stepped onto the yellow desert sands. Fortia's camp lay south. Arcadia's airfleet was landing now onto the runways prepared by magicians who had been sent off earlier. Ten planes. Twenty. Forty. Their doors opened, men spilled out without the engines even being switched off, and then plane picked up speed immediately to free up the runway for the next.
They would return fly back to Arcadia, and then fly back with another hundred men.
Elassa raised into the air as Fortia appeared at the edge of her camp. Fortia had been suffering in the war, Kassandora's modern weaponry had proven simply too effective, her manoeuvring and stalling too easily managed to stall the armies the White Pantheon had brought. They had been overeager with Kirinyaa's peace-keeping mission. Kassandora, very simply, was too skilled at warfare to be defeated in strategy or tactics.
