He flipped over Bellona, stopping before one of the soldier's graves. ‘Help me with this one.’

Bellona frowned. ‘Why this one?’

‘Why?’ Baron laughed. ‘Because this one is screaming your name.’

Contact with the newly dead man flooded Bellona's senses with his dying moment: the clash of shields, shattering spears, cries of anger and pain, the sour reek of phobos. His spirit emerged from the soil, a reflection of the man he had once been, as though viewed through a tarnished mirror.

‘Antioch,’ said Bellona, to the man that had once been her champion.

Goddess... the soul writhed. Where are you? I... I can't find my sword.

- Divine Uprising