Ehran was crouched down, weight focused on the balls of his feet, peering at the parchment laid out in front of him. Somehow, he’d been allowed to join Ehran in the discussion of the invasion, and hear the plans they were making. Many of the locations they mentioned, such as hidden tunnels and gulleys in the plains, he didn’t know. He was only aware that they were launching attacks on the Attosian army from every conceivable direction, even from underground.

The leaders of the various military groups mentioned the word coatls repeatedly, as well as someone named Auriel. Eric had no idea what any of that meant, and he didn’t feel qualified to speak at such an important meeting, so he left it to his master and the others. Even the Queen herself was in attendance, wearing a set of crimson leather armor bearing the crest of her family. The crossed scythe and fang seemed to almost glow with power, matched by the long sword slung over her back.

“There aren’t many of the coatls,” one councilor was saying. “Are we sure they can handle the task?”

“You haven’t seen a fully-grown coatl up close, have you?” Another voice answered. This was the deep gruff sound of Markus Ciayol, General of the Maravino. “They’re more than strong enough. Trust me on that.”

“You think Auriel will care?” The first voice asked again. “Out of all the Guardians, she’s the most… chaotic by nature.”

“She obeys Grimr,” Enri Ciayol was speaking now. His voice was firm, and he was clearly intent on moving along. “Grimr has ordered her and her family to assist us in our attack. Coatls are best at sneak attacks. They’ll perform admirably, I’m sure.”

After this firm pronouncement, nobody else raised an objection. Eric felt, not for the first time, that Enri had a lot of respect in the court, despite his relatively young age. Only twenty-eight years old, and already a trusted officer. He would be leading the main assault that would depart through the East Gate, Eric remembered. Only someone with the strongest nerves could command such an assault. Right, he reminded himself. Leave them to it. He focused his attention back on the parchment before him. He’d received it only an hour ago, and though he’d read it several times, he couldn’t help himself in reading it once more.

Eric,

I am both astonished and pleased to hear of your return. I must confess, when Samuel told me that you had perished in a fight against Attosian assassins, I was distraught. You and I have not known each other for long, but I like to think that we have drawn quite close.

Father sent me a letter informing me of your arrival the moment you left the shop. Even now, my hand shakes at the thought. I have heard of the disruption centered on the capital, so I will remain where I am for the time being. I have no doubt that the invaders will be defeated and sent packing. Maybe, when they do, we can spend some time together.

I know from speaking with Samuel that you will play a very important role in the coming fight. It is the reason why you were summoned, is it not? I know you are strong and wise, and that you have been trained by one of the greatest masters Milagre and Ahya have to offer. Just as I believe completely in the ability of Milagre’s defenders, my confidence in you is equal to none.

Welcome back to Ahya. Perhaps, after the battle is finished, you could find the time to rekindle what we once had. After you, I could not find the will to take another partner. I was prepared to live alone, rather than try to find what we had once more. I won’t presume to ask you to stay in an unfamiliar world, but please do not forget what was between us. I will be alongside you in spirit, and pray to the gods that you will emerge unscathed and victorious.

All my love,

Emma

The simple and short letter had done a great deal to calm Eric’s racing nerve and building sense of ill omen. What did it matter that they were about to fight the largest battle in the history of Tyrman? What did it matter that they were now facing the eve of a prophecy so ominous that it had made the help of two outsiders necessary? Emma had truly loved him and still wanted him back. All was right in the world, as far as he was concerned. The upcoming fight seemed like nothing more than a hiccup in the arrangements, like an unexpected errand before supper.

“Eric!” Ehran’s harsh voice cut across his thoughts, and the apprentice jerked to his feet at once. “The Queen has asked you a question. Answer her!”

“Err,” Eric asked, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes in the room focused on him. That was a lot of disapproving generals and commanders, he thought, swallowing nervously. “My sincere apologies, Your Majesty. I was preoccupied with a letter from my friend. What did you ask me?”

The Queen stared at him for a moment in silence, clearly not amused to have to repeat herself. But under the mask of disapproval, there was the faint sign of a smile. “I will allow your slip this once, young Eric. I understand the pangs of young love. I want your opinion on the coming fight.”

“M-My opinion?” Eric stuttered. “But I’m just an apprentice, Your Majesty. I don’t have the experience to speak on this topic.”

“I trust your judgment,” The Queen said, both her eyes and tone level. “I remember your excellent service in finding the identity of Hammerbrewer’s murderer. I say you are qualified, so speak.”

Eric swallowed again as he stepped up to the large sand map that everyone had gathered around. That simple action seemed unnecessarily difficult, he thought. Ehran shifted slightly to the side to make room for him, an encouraging smile on his face. The Queen trusted his judgment, and had decided that she was qualified? He wasn’t sure what had caused her to think that. But he also knew better than to refuse a direct order from the ruler of Tyrman.

The sand map had been shaped to show the eastern gate, along with nearly four kilometers of the outer wall on either side. It showed most of the plains stretching for miles and miles, and a sizeable group of sand soldiers was there, marking where Attos’ followers were camped. Even now, Eric thought, the threatening body of troops loomed outside the walls, which seemed ineffective given the situation.

“Well, to be completely honest,” Eric began, every word slow as he gathered his thoughts. “I think we’d be making a big mistake if we treated the army outside the gate as the only real threat.”

There was a mutter of annoyance from the other leaders, which the Queen silenced with a look. “Go on.”

Eric glanced up to see Samuel where he stood. “Master Bragg, if you could, please change it to show all of Milagre.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, Samuel gave a casual wave of his hand, and the sand shifted around to show a new image. Here was Milagre in its entirety, with the Attosian forces still visible outside the East Gate. The body of troops seemed ridiculously small compared to the massive scale of the city, like a small group of ants attempting to conquer a mountain. Eric leaned forward slightly, putting his hands on the edge of the table.

“Milagre is a large city,” he mused aloud. “And in some battles, forces could be split, right? So what if Attos isn’t only attacking from the east? He could be coming from the coast, or maybe he even had soldiers track through the desert. Not many people go in there for fear of the monsters, but a large army could survive the endeavor, surely.”

“Except,” Enri Ciayol said, leaning forward himself. His voice wasn’t aggravative, merely pointing out new information for him. “We’ve sent fast scouting parties all along the western plains, and even to the fringes of the desert. They discovered no evidence of advancing forces from any direction. The navy hasn’t reported encounters with shoreline attacks, either, and there are no ships missing.”

That thought hadn’t occurred to Eric. Of course, they’d have already thought of his objection, and taken measures to investigate. They’d researched extensively, and were confident that the soldiers outside were the sole attacking force. But still, Eric couldn’t shake the thought that there was more to it. The army invading them was massive, sure, but Tyrman wasn’t a weak nation. Their attackers had to know that they would face the greatest resistance if they attacked the capital directly.

“There is one possibility,” Samuel interjected. “Attos does have some exceptionally skilled mages in their service. I imagine that if they were willing to spend the time and effort, they could transport soldiers directly into the city.”

“But I thought we had wards against unwanted teleportation,” Enri said, looking up at Samuel in surprise. “You placed them. Are they breakable or bypassable?”

“There is a way past every barrier,” Samuel said with a shrug. In any event, I’ve had to reclaim the mana I used in the wards. That’s where I’ve been all morning. I needed that energy to fight. As you know, my Spellblades and I will be in the thick of it once the battle begins.”

Enri nodded his acceptance of this fact without argument. “So then that is a risk. We do have the means to scan regularly, but that will only let us know if they arrive. What do you think would be an appropriate countermeasure, given that we don’t have many people to spare for such a reaction?”

“Mercenaries,” Eric said simply. When he received nothing but blank looks of shock and doubt from all faces, he couldn’t restrain a smile from breaking across his face. “I know what you’re thinking. They can’t be proven loyal. But I know quite a few whose loyalty will hold true. I can find them within the hour, and that way we can be nearby if anyone teleports in.”

“What if the number inserted exceeds your capabilities?” The Queen said. Like her cousin, she didn’t seem dismissive of his idea. “If there are too many, or they are too strong, you will fall, and the city could be conquered from within. In the best case, we’ll be fighting on two fronts.”

Eric looked up from the sand map, glanced sideways at his mentor, then met the Queen’s eyes without blinking. He wanted her to see the conviction in his mind. “Ten or a hundred, we will not let them take the city.”

Now a smile really did form on her face. “Well put, young Eric. Simply excellent. I see we will be in good hands.”

“Tell me who you want to contact,” Samuel said. “I can contact them via magic, and summon them here. You will be in charge of them.”

Eric nodded his acceptance. He didn’t know if it was solely Emma’s letter that was filling him with such conviction and bravery, but he knew without a doubt that he’d succeed. It would be a hard fight, he knew, perhaps the hardest he’d ever taken on. But he also believed in the chain of events that had brought him here. He might not be the strongest option, but he’d make sure that he did his job right.

“Alright, gentlemen,” the Queen said. “That’s all settled. You have your orders. May the gods we love watch over us in the coming fight. And good luck.”

The councilors departed at once, not stopping to speak as they left the throne room and rushed off to take command of their respective groups. Enri and the Queen both paused briefly to smile encouragingly at him and wish him luck. He returned their words, then talked shortly with Samuel, giving him the names of everyone he wanted to be summoned. They were all friends and colleagues he’d worked with or met in the past during his time as a mercenary, and he knew they would turn up to fight alongside him.

At nearly the same time as Megan was leaving the city, Eric glanced back at the sand map, which had shifted back to a blank slate. They would win this battle, he assured himself. Tyrman had defeated Attos in battle before, and they would do so again. Then he could see Emma once more. She was the real reason he’d wanted so badly to return to Ahya. Could there be a life for him after this? He didn’t know, but the prospect remained on his mind, giving him the mental fortitude he needed.