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    There was no elegance in the field of battle. Man fighting rhinn for control of land that belonged to neither. If it was just himself, he had to worry about, Heylien would have left for the woodlands long ago, where he could live off the land and not come in contact with another soul for days at a time.


    The pungent stink of body odors, the coppery scent of blood, and the repulsive stench of burning flesh drifted all the way up to where he stood with the rhinn travelers. The travelers were to observe the battle and remain out of harm’s way. All on the orders of his friend, Sarien Wald.


    Heylien looked over his shoulder and saw Sarien sitting under a nearby oak, his eyes closed, the shaggy dog sitting right beside him. It was like a scene from a painting—a boy and his dog—if not for the intense concentration and frustration that masked his face. They’d put a lot in their young companion’s hands and Heylien wasn’t sure Sarien was up to the task, but it wasn’t like they were surrounded with better options.


    He looked back down to the battle, not wishing he was down there helping, but not wanting to stand idly by either. His fingers twitched. He wanted to do something, anything. Waiting like this was not in his nature. Guarding the travelers was an important task, to be sure, but anyone could have done it.


    Down below, everyone fought to retake Fyrie, the nobles’ stronghold, a symbol of oppression. Heylien watched as two men reached the wall, and one bashed it over and over again with his shield. Heylien couldn’t make out the exact details, but who else could it be but the princeling with his noble intentions and good heartedness?


    Heylien frowned. Something wasn’t right. The fighting looked like it had stopped by that section of the wall. While the melee by the gate and other parts of the surrounded city raged on, Goslin’s section was no longer advancing. He squinted, trying to make out the details, when one man in the middle of Eldian troops fell to the ground thrashing then sprung up and started morphing into a creature out of a child''s nightmare.


    From the tales Lana regaled him with from their attack at the tower, Heylien knew he was witnessing the outcome of the priest''s corrupted magic. "I need a gateway," Heylien said.


    The group of rhinn travelers was now a mix of males and females, with more arriving by the day from Rhinerien. Sarien spent most of his energy creating the gateways between the two worlds. Even with the help of a growing number of travelers, it took a lot out of the young man.


    Several rhinn glanced over to Sarien, and when he didn’t open his eyes, one of them, a graying man, spoke up. "The use of waypoints is prohibited. We need to conserve our strength."


    "Our allies are beset by the priests of Wyndemir. They’re being turned into beasts!"


    The one who’d spoken looked back to Sarien again but didn’t get any reaction. When the rhinn turned back, fear lined his large eyes. "The traveling is strange."


    "What does that mean?" Heylien asked, unable to keep the urgency from his voice. Both Goslin and Tomford were down there, and Emeryn as well. The thought of his friends turning into beasts and fighting for the enemy made his stomach turn.


    "Some who go in don’t come back out."


    Heylien frowned. "They get lost somewhere in between?"


    Nods all around.


    "I’ll risk it," Heylien said, without an ounce of hesitation. "Take me to the top of that wall."


    "If we’re going to do it, we should’ve done it from the start," one of them muttered.


    Heylien glared at the group, since he couldn’t pinpoint who’d spoken. "Plans change. Do it!"


    After a few failed attempts, the rhinn travelers opened a gateway without Sarien''s assistance. One fell unconscious in the process, and the opening looked a little strange with a purplish hue. Heylien grabbed his bow and knocked an arrow before stepping through.


    He stood on top of the protective wall around Fyrie. Below, in the city, soldiers waited, pressed together like cattle. Outside, battle raged with more and more soldiers transforming into monsters.


    Archers lined the parapet, releasing arrows down into the attackers below with obvious lack of proficiency. The rhinn hadn’t use bows until they arrived in Maydian and learned of their existence, but one didn’t need much skill to hit someone in a big enough crowd.


    The archers weren’t alone. Pyromancers blasted those below with fire and among them stood the one enemy Heylien knew he would find. A priest of Wyndemir. He was a young man with a malicious grin on his face that was made to look even more sinister when coupled with those glowing, purple eyes.


    Heylien drew back his bow and let loose an arrow. It lodged deep into the priest''s neck. Quite a hit at such a formidable distance and over so many other troops. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride as he loosed another arrow and drew again, this time striking one of the pyromancers. All the hours he’d stood in front of a target as a child, then moving further and further back as he improved, adding in movement, wind, and other obstacles until he truly excelled.


    Archery had been his first and only love.


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    Today, he would show them what a man with a bow was capable of.


    Two pyromancers died before they even realized what was happening to them. Fire blossomed in Heylien’s direction, and he dove behind an outcropping on the wall to avoid being burned alive. All rhinn troops between him and the pyromancers died in an instant, the air sucked out of their lungs as flames turned their flesh into blackened husks.


    The smell of it angered Heylien, who stood and loosed another arrow that struck a pyromancer in the shoulder. An unexpected rumbling in the wall made his aim shift a little, and that was enough to deny him his kill. The ground shook beneath Heylien’s feet again and again.


    Fire roared all around him and when he peeked over the parapet in between attacks, he saw the remaining pyromancers approaching. Time was running out. He stood but had to duck down when a ball of fire exploded on the other side of his protective parapet.


    He heard a familiar scream, coming from below. Fear and pain, but also anger. Heylien peeked down through a slit in the parapet.


    Emeryn. What was she doing so close to the wall?


    From where he stood, the corruption of the enemies'' bodies and minds ceased when he killed the priest, but that didn’t mean the fighting stopped. The rhinn didn’t change back, and they fought as beasts, striking out into the attackers’ ranks with ferocious anger and bloodlust. A second priest must be hiding somewhere, Heylien figured, but he didn’t have time to look for him now.


    Emeryn was under attack and the Eldians near her couldn’t keep up with the monsters. He saw her do an admirable job in keeping the monsters at bay with her incredible control of the earth, even using stone as an arm to strike back at her enemies. But it wasn’t enough.


    He drew in a breath, stood and aimed, releasing an arrow into a furry creature at her back. It whined and fell dead to the ground without her ever noticing it was there in the first place. He fell back, hair singed from another bout of fire from the pyromancers. They hadn’t expected him to stand again. That was the only reason they hadn’t caught him. His shirt smoldered and Heylien patted the fabric. The smell of burnt hair filled his nose, and he couldn’t tell if it was an improvement over the stench of combat or not.


    Peeking down again, he saw that Emeryn wasn’t much better off than before. The continuous quaking in the wall made for poor footing, and Heylien thought it might collapse at any moment.


    The pyromancers were drawing ever closer, and he still hadn’t spotted the priest responsible for transforming the rhinn defenders into servants of Wyndemir.


    A particularly powerful rumble made the whole section of the wall shake and Heylien took the opportunity to stand and look around while the pyromancers were busy trying to remain on their feet.


    There!


    Beyond where he’d struck the first priest, on a small tower filled with archers, Heylien glimpsed a pair of purple eyes and a glowing tattoo on a man’s forehead. He’d found the priest, but the target was too far away to guarantee a kill. The only other option was to close the distance, but that way spelled danger as the pyromancers soon found their feet.


    It would be a gamble.


    Heylien wasn’t much of a betting man, but this time he would make an exception. With a grip on his bow so natural it felt like an extension of his own body, he stood and knocked back an arrow. This was not a shot he could make in an instant. Instead, he watched, felt the breeze in his singed hair, and waited for the perfect opportunity.


    The shining purple eyes were fixed in both his mind and vision.


    They were all that mattered.


    Heylien breathed out and let loose, closing his eyes after so he wouldn’t have to see the fire consume him. No time to hide this time, nowhere to go.


    The shot was magnificent.


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    Emeryn


    Following the soldiers near the front might have been a mistake, Emeryn admitted to herself as she struggled to remain standing against an onslaught of attacks from creatures of all shapes and sizes.


    Goslin wouldn’t keep to his promise of staying out of the worst of it. It was why she’d followed, keeping some distance between them. Not because she didn’t trust him, but she knew his sense of duty would force him into any dangerous situation he could find, rather than letting anyone else come under fire in his stead.


    Unfortunately, their plan had failed. The pyromancer attacks on the wall hadn’t demolished it. They must have built it to withstand these sorts of attacks after pushing back the firemagi during the last war. Shouldn’t someone have known of this?


    Her wonderful husband, the boneheaded Goslin, had, of course, taken it upon himself to bring down the wall by himself. The only reason he was still standing was that shield of his and the fact that the pyromancers up on the wall were distracted by something, their fire exploding again and again against their own side of the parapet.


    When the Eldians, Loftians, and rhinn, both allies and enemies, began changing before her very eyes, everything fell apart. She felt her own body change, turning into a sleek feline form, forcing her down onto four legs. Four!


    As the transformation reversed, Emeryn couldn’t help feeling the loss of her arm again. She pushed the sensation down with all her other regrets and fears. The field of battle needed her attention, her husband needed her help.


    Emeryn watched the wall shudder at Goslin’s attack and was horrified at the intense barrage coming from right above him. The pyromancers hurtled flames in all shapes and sizes, trying to push him back. Using his shield to protect himself from above, Goslin couldn’t make progress on the wall. Tomford had fallen back, shouting something Emeryn couldn’t hear.


    She was too far away to help, so she raced ahead, ignoring all the groaning men and rhinn on the ground. The fighting stopped when everyone reversed to their original forms, the enemy rhinn no longer had any desire to fight against them. They were turning around, anger plain on their faces.


    The priests of Wyndemir had betrayed them. Of course, they’d join their rhinn brethren working with the humans to exact their revenge. Emeryn ran, closing the gap between herself and her husband. A rain of arrows stopped her approach, slitting into the ground all around her like drops of rain.


    Emeryn drew on the earth to create a protective barrier in front and over herself. The wall was still too far away, but she could get no closer. Getting down to her knees, she touched the bare ground with the palm of her hand. Even if she no longer needed the direct connection, touching grass provided a sense of calm and concentration, a remnant from growing into her geomancy as a child.


    The ground sang to her, revealing all that lay beneath their feet. The wall itself was much too far in the distance for her senses to reach the stone. She could not touch it, but she could shift that which the wall stood upon.


    Focusing her will, Emeryn moved the earth.