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    FORTY-FIVE


    <h2 style="text-transform: uppercase">SARIEN</h2>


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    The road leading to the main gate was crowded with people running haphazardly to and from the heat of battle. Many carried supplies. Others carried wounded on makeshift stretchers. Several soldiers waited anxiously for their turn at the front again.


    He knew that this was where he would find Goslin.


    A few eyed Sarien, but most were too preoccupied to notice him. Some must have recognized him from when he thwarted Wyndemir before and gave him a solemn nod as he passed. As he slipped between the cracks in the ranks, he heard comments from awed and fearful voices.


    “So much fire.”


    “Did you see how they burned?”


    “The Captain…”


    “How?”


    He didn’t have time to stop and listen. When he broke free, he stumbled out into an empty street. A gap of about twenty strides separated those who waited within the confines of the wall and the yawning hole where the gate used to be. He found Reze sitting with his back against the wall.


    “Reze? Where is Kax?”


    The boy’s eyes were red, like he’d been crying. “He’s out there,” he said, pointing to the gate.


    Sarien hurried toward the solid wall of soldiers on the other side of the wall. He wondered why they decided to leave the safety of the city, but he assumed there was a good reason. He wasn’t a tactician.


    Someone ahead of him yelled, “Back!”


    Sarien froze as the soldiers sprinted back into Fyrie and away from the fighting. Fear shone in their eyes, but not only that, a tired but grim determination as well. This was no panicked retreat. It was planned. He braced himself against the jostling and waded through the press of bodies until he emerged on the other side.


    Walls of stone and earth divided the battlefield. Burning vines and bushes created a natural barrier against the monsters.


    He spotted Goslin, who was running headfirst into a cluster of pyromancers, who blasted flames at anyone who dared come near them.


    “Goslin!” Sarien screamed.


    “It’s fine,” Tomford said.


    Sarien spun on his heel, having noticed neither Tomford nor Emeryn. “What do you mean, fine?”


    “Why do you think he sent everyone away and charged forward himself? Look.”


    Goslin was less than fifteen strides from the group of pyromancers when all of them let loose bouts of flame, the heat of which Sarien felt all the way from where they stood by the gate. Fire enveloped Goslin for several moments, but then he leapt out from the flames. His gray blade sliced into his first opponent, then Goslin thrust it into the chest of the next man in line. A woman was cut in two by a single swing. The last pyromancer attempted to flee but fell forward after Goslin buried the blade in his back.


    “How?” Sarien asked. His friend looked uninjured. “Is this your doing?”


    Tomford raised his palms in a gesture conveying he had as little clue as Sarien.


    “Why is he naked?”


    “Flames cannot touch my husband,” Emeryn said. “His clothing is not as fortunate.” Emeryn smiled wryly. “I wish he wouldn’t run around naked for all to see.”


    “The priests’ dark magic didn’t affect him either,” Tomford said.


    Sarien thought back to the moment when he discovered the gray flame and how Goslin was able to withstand it. It did touch him but had done so without harm befalling his friend.


    “The Unyielding Resistance of Man,” Sarien breathed.


    “What was that?” Tomford asked.


    “Incoming!” someone above them yelled.


    A wave of monsters charged forward from beyond the earthen bulwarks, crashing through the vines and thorn bushes in their path. They came in all shapes and sizes, though those who looked to be corrupted humans or rhinn tended to be smaller in stature.


    Goslin rushed back to them and threw his arms around Sarien. “You’re back! Welcome home, dear friend!”


    “Thank you, Goslin.”


    “Have you returned with some idea of how to best Wyndemir?”


    “I have something resembling a plan. I’ll need you with me for it to work.”


    “Of course,” Goslin said, eyeing the charging horde.


    Emeryn waved a hand. “Don’t worry about them, the Kin can hold them at bay for now, and we have plenty of soldiers to lend us a hand.”


    “This time, I’ll join you,” Tomford said. “You have a tendency to push too hard and end up with severe injuries.”


    “Which one?” Goslin asked.


    “Both of you.”


    A laugh slipped through. It was good to be back with his friends. “Did Lana and Thys pass through here?”


    “They did,” Tomford confirmed.


    Before them, monsters fell into deep pits in the earth, opened by geomancers up on the walls. Their growls and shouts of anger turned to whimpers as the earth closed on top of them.


    The second wave of grotesque monsters ran across their dead brethren. Arrows rained down from up high and soldiers hurried out from the gate to form a wall of spears. From the look of their practiced motions, this was a tactic ingrained in their bones over the last few weeks. Despite their experience, many perished in the initial clash.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    “Where is Kax? We’ll need him with us,” Sarien asked.


    “He can’t handle anymore,” Goslin said.


    Sarien searched his face and then nodded. “It’s getting worse.”


    “We’re on the brink of losing him entirely.”


    “Can you do anything for him?” Emeryn asked Sarien.


    Sarien shook his head. “We’re going to need him the way he is for what’s coming next.”


    “And what is that?” Tomford asked.


    Sarien pointed at the massive gateway up in the sky. “We’re going to go through there.”


    Goslin looked at him in surprise but said nothing.


    “Let’s go find Kax,” Sarien said.


    “Hold up,” Goslin said. He stripped a fallen soldier of his clothing and put it on. He murmured his thanks to the dead man before returning to the others.


    When Emeryn eyed him, he pulled a grimace. “Better than nothing,” he said.


    As they passed through the broken gate, Goslin asked, “Where did the boy go?”


    “Who?” Tomford asked.


    “Reze.”


    Sarien gestured to the wall next to the gate. “He was sitting right there just a moment ago.” Instead of Reze, they found Kax.


    “Hey Kax, did you see where he went?” Goslin shouted over the stamping of feet from the soldiers rotating in and out of formation. Kax leaned against the wall. He didn’t seem to hear them over the din.


    “What is the matter?” Emeryn asked once they’d made their way over to him.


    He didn’t raise his head.


    “You pulled back. It’s not your fault,” Goslin said to his friend.


    Kax’s face was pale and his eyes sunken. “I can’t hold it, Goslin. It’s going to come out again.”


    “What is he talking about?” Tomford asked.


    “The End,” he rasped.


    “We need you for this next part, Kax,” Sarien said, shaking Kax’s shoulder. He needed his friend to snap out of it.


    “Cornerstone?”


    Sarien nodded and looked from Kax to Goslin. “Cornerstones.”


    Kax exhaled and got to his feet with a grunt. “Let’s end this, then.”


    “What is a cornerstone?” Goslin asked.


    “We’ll fill you in on the way,” Sarien said. “Emeryn, we’ll need as many growers as you can spare from these walls.”


    “What do you have in mind?” Emeryn asked.


    “We’re going to confront Wyndemir, but there is the slight issue of me not being able to open a gateway, so we’ll have to climb to the one already open.”


    “Wait. You want to climb up Wyndemir’s arm?” Tomford asked.


    Emeryn shook her head. “It’s suicide.”


    “Not if we can trap it to the top of the wall.”


    Emeryn shook her head, her eyes wide with incredulity.


    Goslin chuckled. “You’ve done the impossible before.”


    “We’ll do our best,” Emeryn said, still sounding skeptical.


    “We’ll all need to be careful,” Sarien said. “We haven’t seen the last of the Council or the priests.”


    “Many priests have lost their lives within these walls while you were gone,” Goslin said, setting off north in the direction of Wyndemir.


    “Killing them won’t be so easy now,” Kax mumbled. Darkness crept up his throat and his face twisted in concentration, like he was fighting something from within.


    Sarien eyed Kax but said nothing. Instead, he directed a question to Goslin. “I would have thought to find you near Wyndemir. How come you’re over here?”


    “Wyndemir kills as many monsters as he does defenders. All in all, the fighting over there is no more fierce than anywhere else.” He pointed to a bunch of houses as they ran past. “The districts here are full of houses where citizen huddle for safety. If the main gate falls, the deaths will be uncountable. The enemy is aware of this, going by the large numbers of mages they have thrown at this part of the wall.”


    “You’ve been doing a fine job while I was gone,” Sarien said.


    They ran out into an open street and stopped. The stench of it was like walking into a wall of death. Dead bodies were stacked haphazardly in large piles. A monstrous creature lay dead on the cobblestone. Three sets of eyes on three separate heads, all blank. It bled from a hundred puncture wounds, killed by the brave soldiers who now paid the ultimate price for standing up to such a monster.


    “How did it get inside the wall?”


    “Wings,” Kax said, pointing.


    A pair of wings adorned its back, but they were small, pitiful things that never could have carried its massive bulk. “Too small,” Sarien said. The defensive wall in the section was untouched.


    Tomford got down on one knee and put the palm of his hand on a soldier’s shoulder. The man shuddered, his legs spasming wildly.


    “What happened here?” Tomford asked, his voice gentle once the soldier regained his senses.


    “Ain’t it obvious?” the man asked, his voice gruff but full of wonder as he lifted his torn ring-mail to see his unblemished skin. “Damn monster found us. We’re not even at the front. We were on a break!”


    “Where did it come from, soldier?” Goslin asked.


    The man gave him a look, then his eyes widened. “Sir. I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know. It appeared from between the buildings over there. Took us all by surprise.”


    Goslin looked to Sarien. “Do we investigate?”


    “We don’t have the time to spare, I’m afraid.”


    Tomford moved to the next groaning pile of men. Many would not see the next sunset unless he intervened. “I will help them, then catch up. You all go on ahead.”


    “There is a gateway nearby,” Sarien said, pointing to the northwest. “Just a few streets over. It must have entered Fyrie through there.” He felt the gateway through his connection with the wayfaring, though he could do nothing about it now. They were running out of time. He felt it in his bones.


    The world around them groaned in protest of Wyndemir’s coming. A single step into this realm spelled the end for all who lived within its borders.


    “Ask the soldiers to guard the gate once they’re on their feet.”


    “Good idea, Sarien,” Goslin said.


    “I’ll tell them,” Tomford promised, closing his eyes.


    Kax stared at the multitude of the dead and dying. His fists clenched so hard his hands shook.


    The group avoided combat as best as they could as they raced across the city. Under Sarien’s guidance, they skirted around opened gateways. Even then, they ran into trouble.


    Goslin, wielding both his shield and sword, made short work of most who stood in their path, and Sarien’s spear punched through even the thickest of plating. The frequent bouts slowed them down to a crawl. Kax reluctantly joined the fray and sliced through their enemy as if cutting through paper. Darkness billowed out from within him, claiming everything it touched.


    Kax clawed it back in through sheer force of will, then collapsed onto the cobblestones, panting, “Leave me alone. Leave me alone.”


    They pushed their way toward the Prime of Chaos. In the distance, dark spots moved atop the wall. Sarien noticed that the growers had moved into position, but they, too, encountered resistance, forcing them to engage the enemy.


    “We’re almost there,” Goslin said, slowing down. The streets were eerily empty except for the occasional troop going to or from the fighting at the front. They were groups of Eldians, rhinn, Loftians, and the occasional geomancer or aeromancer. A few pyromancers were mixed in with the others, all of them walking with slumped shoulders and bowed heads from exhaustion. Sarien didn’t spot Tremalian anywhere among the allied firemagi, and he hoped the boy found himself alive and well somewhere within the city limits.


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    Tomford


    Tomford let the groans and wails of the wounded wash over him as he expanded his healer’s glow. Those with life-threatening injuries were treated first, then the broken bones, and finally the minor bruises and scrapes.


    “Incoming!” someone yelled.


    In Tomford’s inner sight, new injuries appeared. He healed those too, then again when more appeared. The men were fighting something. By the sound of it, and the hard vibrations, it was something big.


    Tomford kept his eyes closed. His task was clear. The soldiers would fight. He would make sure they lived to see it through.


    Od’s words proved true. Tomford could not heal and fight at the same time. He could not teach his new way of healing to those who would not listen. There was much he could not do, but the more important lesson was that he did not need to. Tomford did not need to do everything, did not need to struggle with himself. All he needed to do was this.


    Tomford healed the injured.