Nemo kept swinging his sword on all sides, afraid to stop moving his arms for even half a second. The wolfmen kept on pouring out of the city gates like an endless swarm of flies smashing onto a dangerously outnumbered army that desperately tried to hold them back. He was scared, and he could feel it deep in his bones. If so many strong and courageous wingmen could fall at the claws and teeth of the wolfmen, what chance did he have? He felt angry at himself; he had thought that he had outgrown fear, but that did not seem to be the case. He was as afraid as he had never felt in all his young life, and that included everything he had been through since the three wingmen had tied him up on that pine tree.

  But as he looked around him, he saw the same fear in the eyes of his sisters and all the other warriors. They were all of them afraid, only none of them was running away; they all kept on fighting. Nemo understood; it wasn’t about being fearless; it was about facing the danger head on and with abundant courage. He knew there were hundreds of mermaids looking up to him and taking courage from him in that very moment, and he would not let them down. So he kept on swinging and slashing with his sword, trying desperately to remember all the training he had received and the moves he had learned, so that he could stay alive long enough.

  Their reduced army received a much needed respite when the current wave of wolfmen coming out of the gate ended. More inside the city wall prepared to meet them in the battlefield. Nemo desperately wished he had news from Daniel and the Southern Gate. He had not heard anything from them in a long time and his worry was slowly turning into despair.

  As if tuning in to his thoughts, a single wingman appeared to be flying low above the army, calling for him by name and title.

  ‘Here, I’m here,’ Nemo called when the wingman got close enough, raising his left hand up in the air. The right he was trying to give it a bit of rest; he knew he would need it soon enough. The wingman spotted him among the other red-haired fighters and flew directly at him, without delay.

  ‘Prince Nemo, I’m so glad you’re still alive and well. I bring word from your mother; the Sea-Queen would like to see you right away.’

  This messenger was not from Daniel, Nemo realized, somewhat disappointed.

  ‘Is she alright?’ he asked the wingman in a manner of urgency.

  ‘She’s been wounded, my lord,’ the wingman replied, ‘but it’s not serious. However, she can no longer continue to lead your people in the battle, and she asks if you would take her place. What would you have me tell her?’

  Nemo did not know. His mother was not simply asking him to take her place. She was asking him to decide now where he belonged; on land with Daniel, Íro and all the other friends he had made during this past season, or back into the sea with her and his sisters, who no longer saw him like they used to. Nemo had not had time to think about this; he was not ready. Still, if this war was lost, it would not matter much, there would be no place for him anywhere. So, he decided he would go where he was needed the most.

  ‘Do you have any news from the Southern Gate?’ he asked the wingman in a hurry.

  ‘The battle still continues there, my lord. Many have been lost, but the Great Lord still fights with us.’

  ‘And your queen?’

  ‘She’s currently tending to some of my brothers, not far from here.’

  ‘Lead me to her, please,’ Nemo said with determination. The wingman took that as an order.

  ‘Follow me, my lord.’

  Chasing after him, Nemo decided there was no time to rebuke the wingman for treating him like the royalty that he actually was. In his own eyes he was just Nemo, the oddity, the weirdo, the rejected coward. He wouldn’t have felt so uncomfortable with the wingman’s reverence, were he to see himself the way everyone else saw him at that moment, a courageous and valiant leader, charging at the front of his proud little army; a true living hero of Endërland.

  The wingman continued to fly low above the army until they reached the Sky-Queen, who was about to take flight and head back to the battle once again. She spotted Nemo and stopped to let him speak to her.

  ‘Your majesty,’ Nemo bowed down to her. ‘My mother has been wounded and requests from me to lead the mermaids in her stead. But I would stay here, if you think this is my place.’

  The tall lady with the very sharp eyes bestowed upon the young merman a warm regard, placing one hand on his shoulder. For a single exonerating moment, Nemo marveled at this genuine affection from this queen, who it only seemed like yesterday was pointing an accusing claw at him.

  ‘I have had the most distinct privilege to have you in my army and watch you fight like one of my own, young prince. I can think of no other more qualified to lead the mermaids in this battle, after your mother. Go with my blessing and assurance that we will keep the fight going, until we have won this war, or none of us is left standing. Good luck, Nemo! May the Great Lord be with you!’

  ‘And with you, my lady. Thank you!’

  He bowed once again, stopping to bathe in this memorable feeling for just a moment, and then resumed to follow the wingman towards the sea, where his mother was now waiting to temporarily pass him the crown.

  Just then, a brand new wave of wolfmen began storming out of the open gate.