Elizabeth limped to the rock that Martin was sitting on. Protruding from the hill that the Erisdalian camp was on, the rock offered the best view of the Twin Towns of Kwent and the siegeworks that were slowly being set up.

Elizabeth had never seen a town as odd as Kwent. The southern side, the human side, had houses and buildings all square-shaped with thatch, shingle, or tile roofs. The grid layout of the town made for uniform streets which seemed to be made from cobblestone, though Elizabeth found it hard to tell from this distance.

Right now, the curtain wall that protected the human side was being battered by the cannons and trebuchets of the Erisdalian army. It now sported dents and craters made by the stone and iron cannonballs of the cannon, as well as the rocks thrown by their trebuchets and catapults. The Erisdalians would prefer if they could just attack the Aalavari side, but that was across the river and they needed to take the human side first.

Elizabeth remembered that a few of her classmates had made suggestions to the Erisdalians on how to improve their cannons, such as the use of rifling for better accuracy. The problem was that the Erisdalians were more focused on making sure their cannons didn’t explode, and so they hadn’t quite incorporated these developments yet. Moreover, while the Erisdalians found the concept of rifling as ingenious, none of the teenagers actually knew how it was done. They were only thirteen-year-olds when they came to Durannon after all.

“The town is going to be tough to capture, right Martin?” Elizabeth asked, trying to hide the dread she felt.

Martin nodded, expression calm, but his shoulders were stiff.

“The main problem is getting across that bridge,” said Martin, pointing at the stone bridge that crossed the Kwent river, into the fae-kin half of Kwent. The wide bridge’s sides had small stone shops and houses built around it, forming walls that loomed over what looked like a really narrow cobblestone path. “Kwent’s bridge was the town’s market. Where fae-kin and humans once mingled. But that also meant that both ends are fortified. They demolished the gatehouse on the human side, but if you look there…. Do you see that gatehouse?”

Elizabeth’s gaze followed her friend’s finger and froze at the sight of the twin towers of the gatehouse on the Kingdom of Alavaria’s side of the river. Behind it, was the fae-kin side of Kwent, which looked remarkably similar to the human side. They had the same buildings in the same grid pattern, though, they did seem to vary more greatly in size.

The only problem was that the only entry point was across that bridge, and through the gatehouse.

“How… how are we going to get through alive?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Luck? Magic? We’ll have to see what Earl Darius’s plan is,” Martin said.

The two sat in silence, eyes on the town.

“Did you see Frances?” Elizabeth asked.

“No. I’m not sure why. It’s as if she’s avoiding us,” said Martin. He rolled a blade of grass in his gloved fingers while trying to keep his face calm.

Frances’s disappearance bugged him a lot. As one of the youngest knights in the camp, Martin didn’t have many peers or friends for that matter. Elizabeth and Frances were the only two people he could talk to, or even just listen to talk.

Elizabeth winced, “Is she mad at me for not protecting her well enough?” she asked.

Martin shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like her,” he said with his voice trailing off. “But even then, the fault is half with me. I’m a trained knight.”

“And I’m the Otherworlder warrior, one of the many supposed to save Durannon! I know that was my first fight, I just thought I’d do… better,” Elizabeth sighed.

Martin snorted. “Let’s say the blame between us is split, deal?”

Grinning, Elizabeth put up her fist, and Martin, after a moment, figured out that he was supposed to meet it with his fist, did so.

A soft cough turned the pair’s heads around.

Frances stood a little ways away, head bowed, hands behind her back. “Hi, Elizabeth, hi Martin. Um, it’s been a while.”

“Frances! Where have you been! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

Frances stared at Elizabeth. “You have?”

“Yes, we have,” Martin reiterated, standing up. “Frances, where have you been? And why didn’t you visit Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth had her own questions, but she found herself arching an eyebrow at Martin and his sharp tone. “Martin, Frances must have had her reasons.”

“No. I was avoiding you both,” said Frances, her gaze averted.

Martin blinked, whilst Elizabeth just stared at Frances.

“I’m sorry, but… I was ashamed. I couldn’t protect either of you in the fight. You both got hurt and I thought you were going to be mad at me,” Frances said.

“Frances, you saved our-well, my life. We’re not going to be mad at you,” Martin said, looking perplexed.

“But I lost control and hurt Elizabeth,” said Frances, but she was now meeting her friends’ gazes, with eyes that were slowly filling with understanding.

Elizabeth was about to reply to that and tell Frances, ‘Of course not.’ Just when she opened her mouth, she stopped. Her mother had always told her to think about it from another person’s shoes, and now that she thought about it, it made a lot of sense that Frances was so afraid.

“I… Frances, it’s alright. I forgive you. You didn’t really hurt me that much and… I really shouldn’t have jumped on you.” Elizabeth smiled. “Besides, I could have done a lot better protecting you.”

“Same,” said Martin. He walked up and extended a hand to Frances. “Look, Frances, I—we don’t blame you for losing control. We could have been killed by the goblins and your lightning storm saved us. We just need to do better next time.” He smiled. “Are we good?”

Frances slowly extended her hand and shook Martin’s. “Um, yes. We’re… we’re still friends?”

“Yeah,” said Martin.

Elizabeth walked up and put her hand on top of the pair. “Yeah.”

Frances smiled, her shoulders relaxing out of sheer relief. Elizabeth found it a bit odd that her friend seemed so nervous, and now happy, but she could ask her about it later at a better time.

Martin, on the other hand, was just glad that they were all talking again. It was unusual that Frances seemed to blame herself when the situation had been so crazy, but he’d rather not ask her to tell him why. All that mattered was that they were talking again.

It didn’t take long for the trio to be called into a meeting with Earl Darius, but this time, the entire tent was filled with commanders, other mages and knights.

“We’re going to assault Kwent soon, within one week,” said Darius, pointing at a sketch of the city.

Elizabeth started and hissed. “Is he nuts?” Martin shushed her, but he looked rather uneasy. And they weren’t the only ones. The other commanders and mages around her were murmuring or looked rather doubtful.

“I know that you think this plan is insane, but we are running out of time. We’ve only been granted this reprieve because the monsters lost so badly at Vertingen thanks to Edana Firehand. However, the monsters are building a new army, and we are not in the position to fight them in the field. We must take the town now.”

The tent was silent, apart from the men and women nodding at the earl’s words. As Darius laid out his plan, they listened intently, sometimes whispering to one another.

Elizabeth was one of those who didn’t quite understand all of it and had to whisper to her friends.

“Wait, so, the plan is to use the gatehouse breach and three others… why don’t we use the other breaches in the walls?” she asked as Earl Darius assigned groups to each breach.

Martin replied, “Too risky” at the same time that Frances whispered, “Not enough soldiers.” The two glanced at each other and Frances gestured to Martin for him to go first.

“It’s risky because coordinating multiple attacks is hard, even if every group has a mage with a communication mirror,” Martin said. His eyes flicked over to Frances. “Don’t we have ten thousand soldiers?”

“Yes. But since we are keeping a reserve of a thousand, splitting our army more than three would leave each group with less than three thousand. That’s too risky when they have at least two thousand defenders and only Amura and Rathron know how many militias,” said Frances.

“Frances, Martin, Elizabeth,” snapped Darius.

The three stiffened as Darius’s eyes rested on them as did the rest of the

“You’re going to be in the reserves, part of the reinforcements that will be sent to seize the bridge and the gatehouse. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my lord,” said the three.

“Good. Are there any questions?” Darius asked.

The tent was silent. Some of the commanders murmured but nobody raised their voices.

Martin, however, raised his hand hesitantly.

“Yes, Martin?” Darius asked, looking a little surprised.

Frances and Elizabeth glanced at their friend, wondering why he was putting himself in the spotlight.

“What do we do about the Alavarian civilians or soldiers who surrender?” Martin asked.

Darius narrowed his eyes at Martin. In a cold voice that sent a shiver down the trio’s spines, he growled, “Whatever you want with them. They are our enemies.”