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    A twitch.


    Goslin, along with the stationed geomancers, and the soldiers tasked with guarding them, watched in horror as the giant fingers flexed. Then Wyndemir made a fist.


    Gosling’s gaze followed the arm upwards into the sky, terrified of what he might see. Wyndemir peered down at them, his purple eyes fixed on the wall. In one smooth motion, the angry god pulled back his arm and slammed his fist into the stone wall.


    Goslin lost his footing and tumbled to the floor along with everyone else. A soldier tripped and screamed as he flew toward the edge. Goslin hurried to his knees and grabbed the soldier by the cuff of his tunic. The young man scrambled for purchase, pulling frantically at Goslin as both men tipped closer to the precipice.


    “Easy, man!” Goslin shouted, trying to find his footing against the cold stone floor. His feet slid from under him as the soldier tried to climb over Goslin to safety.


    The wall shook violently. Screams filled the air. Another blow.


    Goslin refused to die in this manner. There was still much to be done. He was needed.


    A third blow made the entire stone structure tremble as Goslin was pulled closer to the abyss. Before long, they would both tip over and fall to their deaths due to this one soldier’s desperate struggle.


    Goslin pushed off the panicked soldier with all his might and watched the young man’s face stiffen with shock as his fingers slipped free of Goslin’s clothing. Goslin turned away before he could see the soldier fall to his death.


    Shoving himself to his feet, Goslin yelled, “Geomancers! Snap out of it!”


    Goslin grabbed them by the shoulders and shook them out of their stupor. Coming to their senses, the geomancers used their magic to raise a wall of earth, bracing the stone wall. Wyndemir immediately struck the newly created pillar with incredible force. Instead of disintegrating, the earthen wall turned into clay and absorbed the blow.


    “Ingenious,” Goslin breathed.


    The geomancers straightened.


    A flash of color caught Goslin’s attention. He turned east and on the far wall saw someone frantically waving a red flag.


    “Already?” he groaned. Enemies approached.


    As he watched, more and more red flags joined the first all along the outer walls in every direction.


    Goslin glanced at the monstrous hand of Wyndemir before crossing the length of the wall over to the closest flag-bearer. In the distance, Goslin saw a dark swarm quickly approaching, like a large shadow spreading across the land.


    Monsters. A vast sea of monsters.


    “So many,” Goslin said, more to himself than to the lad beside him.


    “More than last time,” the boy replied.


    “More than last time,” Goslin agreed.


    He didn’t know what he was seeing. It couldn’t be humans or rhinn transformed under the powers of the priest of Wyndemir. There were too many.


    It didn’t matter. The origin of these forces was a mystery for another day. Goslin’s task remained the same.


    “You,” he said, pointing to one of the messenger boys gaping at the incoming attackers. “Send word to the council right away. We need to marshal every available hand!”


    The boy snapped to attention and scurried down the stairs and another one followed to ensure that the message was received. Grave orders such as these always needed a second set of feet to carry them.


    “Meet the invaders with all the arrows at your disposal,” he yelled at the archers who stood near the parapet clutching their bows.


    Four messenger boys stood shifting anxiously. Goslin sent three of them off to the pyromancers, geomancers, and aeromancers. If they were to survive the initial assault, the Eldians and their allies would need to utilize all the tools at their disposal.


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    “You have my permission to fire at will! One of you, go find your commanding officer and get them up here!”


    A chain of messengers was set up for this precise situation. It allowed the council members to relay their commands from deep inside the safety of the keep. When this method was first proposed, Goslin argued heatedly against it. Every second spent wasted with messengers running to and fro was another life lost on the battlefield. Despite gaining Landé’s support, the council voted against Goslin.


    Goslin gritted his teeth and clutched the pommel of his sword. He’d sent word of the impending attack to the council. He didn’t plan on waiting idly by for their reply. They could argue amongst themselves until they were blue in the face for all Goslin cared. He had a city to defend.


    Troops flooded onto the wall. Eldian archers in the hundreds crowded the parapet. Mages soon joined their ranks. By the time the approaching horde was near enough to make out the individual monsters, Fyrie was as ready to receive them.


    “You better hurry up, Sarien,” Goslin whispered under his breath. With an assault like this, the question was not whether they could repel the invaders, it was how long they could keep the enemy at bay before succumbing.


    A ballista bolt shot through the sky and struck near the main gate. Goslin swore. Another bolt slammed into the gate itself with frightening accuracy.


    All entrances into the capital were reinforced, except for the western one, which was sealed with earth and stone, courtesy of the geomancers. This meant little if the enemy kept bombarding the city from afar.


    Goslin gripped his sword tighter. He was certain that the ravening beasts wouldn’t settle for attacking the wall for much longer.


    Just as he thought it, a boulder soared over his head, crashing into a residential district within the confines of the city. He heard wails of surprise rise around him.


    The challenge would not go unmet. Goslin needed to find a way to strike back before all was lost.


    He needed to find Lana.


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    Lana


    Lana held the priest of Wyndemir by the front of his robe, one knee on his chest and a dagger of gleaming white light pointed at one of the man’s purple eyes.


    “Your friends are dead,” she said simply.


    Thys lounged against a wall, cleaning his bloodied short sword. With his newfound blinking ability, the man was terrifying in battle. He’d dispatched five priests by the time she’d entered the room. She couldn’t help but grin at the smug bastard.


    The priest groaned and winced, yanking his face away from the tip of her dagger.


    “How fortunate for us to find six of you in a single location. With those scribblings on the floor, I’m inclined to think you were performing a ritual.”


    The priest remained silent.


    “But that isn’t it, is it?” she asked. Lana waved her hand across the floor. Most of the painted patterns were awash with blood, undiscernible. “This is something else. I don’t care what, but I do care about the rest of the priesthood hiding in this city. You’re going to tell me where they are. Now.”


    The priest only glared up at her in defiance.


    Lana’s hand trembled as she gripped her dagger tightly in frustration. Heat spread across her face, and she pressed her knee harder into the priest’s chest. “Tell me where the ritual is being performed!”


    She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back and up to see Thys standing over her with a grim expression on his face. “Why don’t you let me talk to him alone for a moment?”


    “I can do this.”


    “Have you ever hurt someone before?”


    “Of course I have.”


    He squeezed her shoulder a little harder. “You know what I mean. This is different.”


    “You saw the remains of the family downstairs,” Lana spat, turning back to the priest. “They had no qualms about inflicting pain and suffering.”


    He deserved to die, to suffer, for what he had done. “I can make him talk.”


    Thys sat on his heels beside her, sheathing his blade for the moment. He pulled her hand away. “Let me.”


    Her dagger dissolved as she stood and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her. Outside, people ran back and forth like frightened schools of fish. She ignored them and sat with her back against the stone building that once housed a merchant’s family. They were dead now, slaughtered by the priests.


    Lana blinked several times, her eyes burning. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic, tuning out her surroundings and the shrieks of pain coming from inside.


    The chilly air calmed her a little and by the time Thys exited, wiping blood from his hands with a piece of the priest’s robe, Lana was in control of herself again.


    “What did you find out?” she asked.


    “The priest was not privy to the new location for the ritual, but he said it could only be done within the old temple.”


    “But we checked down there. He must have lied.”


    He shook his head. “He didn’t lie.”


    “Then we missed something.” Lana got to her feet. “Let’s search it again.”


    A woman screamed, pointing at the sky. Lana looked up to see a huge stone boulder soar through the air and crush a nearby building. The air shook.


    “They’re back,” she said. “The rest of the priests will have to wait.”


    Thys shielded his eyes from the sun as he surveyed their surroundings. “They’re waving flags all along the wall. What do we do?”


    “Find Goslin.”